


The Fisherman and The Stag

by tokidoki_smile



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Bottom Will, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will, God Hannibal, God Will, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Magic, Original Character Death(s), POV Alternating, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, They Flip, Top Hannibal, Unstable Will, attempted smutt, eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokidoki_smile/pseuds/tokidoki_smile
Summary: Will Graham lives at the edge of a mysterious and feared forest where monsters are rumored to linger. He leads a peaceful quiet life in the company of his dogs, his gift isolates him from the people in the village. When a spree of murders begins, eyes are cast on Will as the prime suspect. But where men go, demons follow. Can Will clear his name and find the killer before it is too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was browsing some art, listening to "Howl" by Florence + The Machine and got it into my head that it would be really neat to put Hannibal and Will's relationship in a kind of fairy tale world. So I got this started, I'm working on it. I usually write, but don't usually share... Trying to change that. Hope you like it.

Once upon a time in a not so distant land there was a quiet unremarkable town. In this town, lived a young man with a special gift. He was able to glimpse into people’s minds and hearts and know them in ways no one should. Raised from boyhood there; some of the townspeople cared for him while others feared him. So, to spare them, when he grew of age he left the town. He settled in a small broken house on the edge of the forest.

While the town was mundane the forest was anything but. This forest was as inviting as it was foreboding a vibrant green with lush vegetation, but a deep tangled darkness lurked within. Many tales and legends were born of that darkness, so much so, that no hunter dared to camp in the woods. Keeping their excursion to only day lit hunts and day trips for wood foragers.

There were tales of a monster in the form of a Great Stag. Many men had gone searching for it throughout the years but no hunter hand ever returned with it. Great tales were woven about this elusive beast. One tale, recalled by foragers, told of how a bolt had pierced the Great Stag. A wound that should have been fatal. But the Stag did not fall, nor run, but instead charged at the hunter. Goring, smothering, and stomping the man to death.  He’d heard that story many times growing up in the small town. However, men had taken to adding to these macabre tales. Touting that upon killing the hunter, the Stag had eaten flesh from him.

Will knew better, deer were not that kind of animal. Men simply sought to make their failures small by creating fantastic claims about this wild beast. He himself was not a hunter, he preferred to fish. Through an overgrown path behind his home he’d found a route to a sweet water inlet where he’d spend time fishing.

Will lived there peacefully, out of the reach of the dark things in the forest and on the edge of the people he cared for in the town. His only companions were strays that he lovingly took into his home. He maintained everything himself, though it was lonely from time to time.

It was a normal morning like any other, when Will made his way out into the forest to gather wood. The dogs pooling and jostling excitedly around his legs as they came pouring out of the small house after him. The cold months would come without hurry. His fruits and vegetables grew well enough and plentiful enough to preserve and secured good trade in the market.

But wood was easier to fetch himself, bringing down a dead tree so a healthy one could grow in its place was good for the forest. The wood could dry in the months before the snows and cold came.

His eyes drifted along his plentiful garden: rows of healthy tall corn stalks, carrots, radishes, and potatoes. Tomatoes and peas climbing up strong secure vines, full of buds.

Will couldn’t help but smile, proud of the garden and the life he led. He called to his dogs, it was a fine day to let them enjoy the fenced in patch of forest behind his house. He’d come up with it realizing with so many dogs they needed a safe place to spend some daylight outside. He opened the wooden gate and ushered them in, all but one: Micha.

She sat her bushy brown tail wagging patiently as she watched him with bright yellow eyes.

“Micha.” He called insistently, she cocked her head her large chocolate ears up as she panted happily. Will stared at her, she wasn’t his first stray. She’d been around a few years now, very bright, but from time to time she’d blatantly ignore a command she didn’t agree with.

Will rapped his fingers on the gate, as he shook his head and closed it.

“They’re going to start to think I’m playing favorites.” He grumbled as he made his way back. She popped right up and followed closely as he went to retrieve his ax and cart.

* * *

 

The bright sunlight filtered through the canopy of green above, his boots crunched dry leaves and branches as he trudged through the undergrowth. Micha wandered her nose to the ground eager to get a read of the area. Will stopped and listened, far in the distance he could hear the rapping of a woodpecker, as well as the calls of various other birds.

A normal peaceful day, suddenly he heard Micha barking aggressively. Will’s heart clenched.

“Micha!” He called as he started in the direction of her barking.

“Get away dog!” The voice sounded gruff and angry; Will quickened his pace as he came upon them. His eyes fell on the blood first, and the nauseous feeling it caused to wash over him.

Pulsing out, oozing thick and hot with each labored breath from the downed buck.

“Get yer mutt!” The man barked, Will finally snapped back and looked at the man.

“M-Micha here.” He croaked.

The gross yellow grin on the man’s bloated face, making his stomach turn. He glanced at the old well cared for rifle tucked under his arm nose down.

Will swallowed, tremors shaking his body as he took a cautious step back. Micha gave a quite bark as she came around to him.

The other man was crouched over the buck, knife in hand. The bullet wound had pierced through the buck’s lung, but it wasn’t a kill shot. Will could feel the fear that had driven him to flee. Will could feel the choking sensation as his lung failed and fill with blood.

“You see it?” The man with the rifle asked proudly. “It’s the Great Stag!”

“Yeah, we got ’im!” The man with the knife bragged.

Will looked at the buck, it was large a full rack definitely a few years old. Anyone would think it had godly properties, but all that Will saw was a terror stricken living thing, wounded, and dying slowly.

“You should put the buck out of its misery.” Will called shakily, the man with the rifle laughed.

The man with the knife rose to his feet.

“This here yer buck boy?” The man asked motioning from Will to the buck with the blood slicked knife.

Will kept his eyes on the blade, he fixed his glasses and shook his head.

“I kill it, how I like.” He spat. Will looked back down at the buck, he could feel his heart beat slowing down, dying painfully slow.

“It’s cruel.” Will added, averting his eyes.

The men laughed turning to each other.

Will paused, the heartbeat finally going silent. Only the sick sticky feeling of their disregard hung in the air. Will shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, backing away.

A lost cause, reason had no place here. The men payed him no mind as they went on with the buck.

The knot in his throat choking him, he couldn’t abide by cruelty of any kind. He pawed roughly at his face as though their cruelty was grime on his skin. Micha close at his side, he needed to leave, his stomach churned violently.

He’d synced with the buck, he’d felt everything he’d felt from the moment the bullet had pierced his lung until his heart finally gave up.

He could feel his skin crawling with unease, he glanced back over his shoulder. He fixed his glasses and carried on, he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched, judged as he finally made it back to the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Micha (Mika) is an adorable brown boarder collie, Will's dogs are equally important characters.
> 
> Please feel free to leave me your thoughts
> 
> Thank you for your time


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing I had the meeting between the Fisherman and the Stag very clear in my head. However, as I started writing it started to get a little further away... But I got to the murder part, so I'll get to their meeting.

The first murder happened the night of the old moon. Will remembered how dark it had been on his walk home. He’d almost regretted staying later at the pub, but it’d been so long since he’d had a good night with other people.

He couldn’t turn down Crawford and Price at the bar for just one more drink, that had turned into several. He didn’t know how he made it home in the pitch of night, but was grateful.

The discovery of the first dead body left everyone in the town on edge, nervous, wary of each other, and afraid of the night.

To top it off, that investigation had remained unsolved. Will had been unable to get a good read and had been unable to help the case. It still haunted his dreams more often than he’d like to admit.

But like always, with time came forgetting and with no other incidents normalcy returned.

So, now, standing here, with the bruised and bloodied body before him he felt frozen in place. His body unwilling to move, his nose and throat choked with the smell of old blood and rot. But his eyes were free, they darted counting brutal stab after vicious slash. It was some manner of short blade. The wounds concentrated to the neck, chest and torso, as though to tear him open. He looked at the man’s face, bruised and bloodied, it wasn’t one he recognized.

His expression commemorating the terror he must have felt, his eyes wide and set on him. His heart hammered in his chest, he knew he should cry out for help. His throat felt constricted, after a few eternal moments, he was finally able to stagger back from his finding.

“Help! Police!” He cried as loud as he could. “Someone’s been murdered!!”

* * *

 

The crowd had gathered expectantly quick, men, women, even children onlookers clogging either end of the narrow alley, the corpse had at least been covered by the first officials to arrive.

Jack Crawford, the town constable was standing in front of him, asking about happening upon the body. But Will was only half listening, his mind flooded by the deluge of fear and suspicion of the villagers as they gawked at the scene and at him. There were too many people in the village that knew very little about him, but knew enough to make them fear him unreasonably. Their feelings were palpable, oppressing even as they pondered whether he’d be capable of murder.

Will shut his eyes tight and looked back at Jack, avoiding his eyes.

“No.” He replied. “I only found him.”

“You were pretty sure the wounds were caused by a knife though.” Jack pressed as he tapped his hat against his free hand. Will shook his head.

“I **supposed** it was a knife, Jack.” Will stressed the difference.

“Price thinks they were claws.” Jack rebutted.

“But the stabs-”

“Not stabs Will, bites.” Jack corrected looking at Will concerned.

“Bites?” Will asked aghast, looking towards the covered corpse. The body didn’t appear to have been moved. The blood, perfectly pooled around the body stated as much. “From what?”

Jack’s brow furrowed as he rubbed the back of his head, he turned back to look at the covered body and the officers working around it.

“That’s going to take some time,” Jack sighed placing his hat back on his head. “Price is ballparking time of death as last night- so, you called us the moment you found it?”

Will looked at him somewhat annoyed.

“Yes.” He responded flatly.

Jack nodded a goodbye as he turned to return to his job.

“Get home safe Will.” He called, Will watched as he returned to talk to Zeller, who eyed him cautiously.

Will turned to a sea of eyes, he hadn’t noticed even when he could feel them. Somehow seeing them seemed to make his head spin. Those oppressive judgmental feelings he’d felt around him were punching and clawing their way into him.

“Will!” Alana’s voice called as he saw her break past the wall of eyes, and grasp his arm as though plucking him from drowning. “Are you alright?”

Will blinked tightly, his vision focusing on her concerned face as she touched her hand to his temple.

“Alana.” Will called weakly as she secured his arm in hers and lead him through and free of the amassed villagers.

“I’ve got you.” She called.

* * *

 

Will woke to the sounds of a small fire, and the smell of boiling vegetables filling his home. He opened his eyes to the white fabric over his eyes and forehead, he smiled. Alana always did her best to help and take care of him.

 “They think I did it…” Will mumbled, peeking out past the moist cloth Alana had placed on his forehead. “Do you think-”

“Don’t even say it.” Alana bit as she got up from the chair by the fire to come stand by him, she took the cloth from his hands with a heavy sigh. “You had nothing to do with that.”

Will sat up as he reached for his glasses on the nightstand. He smiled, finally able to see her in the warm light of his tiny one room house. Having her around left a tiny peace in his troubled mind. Alana was a dear friend, one of the few people that knew and bothered to try to understand him.

“What smells good?” He asked pulling himself up to his feet, his head throbbed mildly. Alana turned and headed back to the fireplace, she picked up the poker and used the hooked end to pull the crane and free the bubbling pot from the small flames.

“Soup, Beverly brought it over when she came to ask about you.” She explained, Will paused and pursed his lips. Beverly was a fellow constable, though what made him hesitate was that she’d brought the soup. Not to say that it was bad, her tastes just tended to run to extremes, with sweets deathly sweet and everything else very spicy.

“And it’s edible?” Will asked in a flat tone, Alana turned her head sharply and glared playfully.

“It tastes fine to me.” She retorted, Will gave a little chuckle as he came to occupy the opposite chair in front of the fireplace. He found it softer but not as comfortable and attributed it to its disuse. He didn’t typically entertain. Though as it was right now, it felt like he was the guest as Alana busied herself pouring the soup into simple wooden bowls.

He smiled, he remembered sitting in the sun about this time last year carving the bowls out of a fine piece of black walnut he’d found in the woods. He’d made four but one had inexplicably split and so he’d been left with three.

Alana smiled as she took the seat opposite of him.

“Don’t stare at it.” She joked. “Eat it. Look,”

He watched her take a spoonful and blow on it before she sipped it. He smiled and followed her example. At least this time, Bev had gone light on the spices.

“What did Beverly say?” Will inquired slurping another spoonful quietly.

Alana paused, not sure whether to eat her spoonful or answer the question, she chose the former to buy her a moment. But that in and of itself was telling, the investigation remained fruitless.

Jack and his team were among the most capable and level-headed people in their village, but with few resources they often used Will to get an extra insight into crimes. Usually the crimes were simple, these were the first murders in the village and they remained unsolved.

It worried Will, he knew it worried everyone in the village, it was a small town everyone knew each other. With few visitors, the thought that this murder had been committed by a neighbor was terrifying. More so for him, he always seemed to be the odd man out. When normalcy was so suddenly stripped away, they had no choice but to coalesce to all the things they had in common. These were things Will did not share, which made him different. Different enough to feel unknown and even potentially dangerous.

“Will?” Alana called, he blinked returning from the descending spiral of his thoughts to look at Alana’s concerned expression, her hand resting comfortingly on his knee.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, not sure how long ago he’d drifted away from his question.

“It’s- You know, they’re just scared.” Alana placated. “It’ll pass. We’ll find the guilty person.”

Will smiled wearily nodding and shifted in his seat, Alana moved back releasing his knee and he rose to his feet.

“I should walk you home,” Will proposed, leaving his half-eaten bowl on the table.

Alana watched a moment, he still seemed somewhat dazed. She nodded knowing that there would be no deterring him, and welcoming the courtesy despite knowing he’d have to make the walk back alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Will is doing his thing, don't know how well I capture it... He kind of observes the scene as kind of a specter, and then he also kind of becomes the murderer. Please forgive me if it's awkward or strange.  
> Also, their meeting is imminent! I hope to post the chapter a little sooner.  
> -Cheers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rochefort is a very sleek black lab, named after the Mads version in the terrible (imo) Three Musketeers from 2011.

Will did not have to make the return trip alone, he opted to bring along Rochefort. A tall, black, short-haired hound, a scar cut across his left eye leaving him with only one good eye. Despite his appearance, he was an even-tempered dog that heeded commands well, staying close to his side.

He was glad it wasn’t dark yet; the sun was only just going down casting an orange red light across the houses and shops along the road. As he walked, he could feel eyes on him from every direction. Thoughts and feelings like termites, burrowed into him sporadically. He couldn’t help but feel under siege as he walked. Trying to maintain calm, he worked to keep his breathing even. Rochefort seemed to notice and sidled closer, Will’s hand just brushing against the black dog’s head.

It only helped a tiny bit. Now he regretted it wasn’t later, and these gawking people were not hidden away in their homes; where they could think their wretched little thoughts away from him. Will stopped mid-step, the acrid taste and tightness in his throat strange to him. He never thought of the people of the village this way, who’s thoughts were these?

Rochefort circled back for his master, before Will started again picking up his pace. He needed to get home, he had work to do.

* * *

  
Will stared at the dancing flames in the fire place, the fire was slowly going out having burned through the logs Alana had used to start it. He sat alone in the quiet of his home getting ready to open his mind.

He would have attempted this at the crime scene earlier, but there were too many people watching. He didn’t get a chance to go back; even with the body gone and almost all the evidence washed away by concerned citizens. Others still lurked about, waiting, watching for anything.

Steadily Will tapped his middle finger on the arm of his chair. Ready to unpack everything from the crime scene.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he exhaled slowly.

He opened his mind’s eye and he was there again, in the middle of that back alley. The bright light of noon day beating down on him, the sky clear and blue not a cloud in the sky. The air crisp, but not cold.

He heard the buzzing, loud and obnoxious the wings of a swarm of flies skittering across the skin, tasting, prodding, celebrating their feast.  
Will wrinkled his nose the smell putrid and invasive, despite his best effort he could taste it. He coughed, covering his mouth with his hand as he approached for a better look.

Will pulled back each obstructive layer, as though tuning a radio. He stood before the body lowering his hand from his face.

Will eyed the wounds the gashes looked like they could have been done by a knife or claws. He knelt next to the body, the stabs, or what he thought had been stab wounds were too shallow. In groups, Will reached down moving the torn shirt out of the way. The punctures did not occur on the torso. Only around the neck and arms. It was very possible they were bites. But of what?

Will inhaled deeply, and it felt peaceful as though he were falling asleep. A heavy blanket of dark fog poured over him, as he left Will Graham behind.

_The man stunk of alcohol. Will followed quietly behind him, just another shadow in the darkness. The man’s steps were slanted and wobbly, Will closed the distance silently. When he was close enough, he pounced, knocking him to the ground easily. The man’s arms came up to protect him instantly. Will snarled tearing and biting at his arms with teeth and claws._

_“Help!” The man slurred drunkenly. “Someone!”_

_Will lunged violently past his arms. He hated his voice. He needed to shut him up._

_His teeth shut tightly, breaking the skin around his throat. The man choked, and no more sounds came out. He could taste his surging pulse on his tongue, and the pungent scent of alcohol. The man punched and grabbed at his jaws trying to pry them open. Each breath was short and fought for. Will struggled to hold on, drunk or not, the man had some strength and was able to force his jaws apart and push him off._

_Will pulled his head back, snapping his jaws as the man struggled to crawl away from him. His hands pushing against his face. His claws tore into the man’s chest, as he snapped at his fingers and forearms._

_The man couldn’t call out, he couldn’t make a sound, only wheezing and coughing. Little by little Will was wearing him down, draining the fight out of him. Invigorated by the thundering of the man’s heart Will charged past his hands again clamping tightly around his windpipe._

_The man made a strangled yelp, feebly gripping at him. There was no fight left in his limbs, he couldn’t stop him anymore. Will shifted coming to rest at his side. The man’s arms remained raised up, shaking, as though invoking a spirit. Jaw locked around his throat. He could feel his body jerk, with each breath he tried to suck in but couldn’t._

_Will was eye to eye with the man, but he wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were cast up._

_Finally, the man moved no more. Will unlocked his jaw licking at the blood on his lips as he stepped around him. Eyes still fixed skyward._

_Will turned up, but there was nothing there. Nothing but darkness, but a darkness like nothing else. Pitch black, almost in the shape of a man wearing a crown, not a crown, a rack of antlers. Will stared but from a moment to the next it had dissolved, just the darkness of the night left in its place._

_Will turned, his eyes travelled up the body, inspecting it closely. At the neck, the man’s head was replaced by the head of the buck._

Will gasped suddenly and staggered back too fast falling back on his backside. And just like that, he was back at the daylit crime scene.

He panted wide-eyed as got back to his feet. He stared at the man’s bloated face, fogged over eyes stared back at him now. It was the face of the man from the forest.

Will stood shaken, not sure if he was hallucinating. Was the man from the forest the dead man in the alley? Was he imagining it?

He was shaking, wasn’t he? He looked down his hands steady, sticky, stained in blood. He shut his eyes tight, trying to purge the scene from his sight.

Will tapped his middle finger steadily against his thigh. He took in a long deep breath and slowly let it out.

He opened his eyes again, he was in his house, in his chair, in himself. He felt drenched, his chest tight and breath short as though he’d just surfaced from a deep pool of water. The fire had burned out, only flickering embers remained in the blackness of the fireplace.

He took another shuddering breath, as he straightened himself in his chair. He fixed his glasses as he rose to his feet. Sweat dampened his brow, his skin felt hot as though he’d only just stepped out of the heat of the noon sun.

Will made his way in his dark home, to the kitchen pouring himself a cup of water. He drank, the cool liquid a small relief. He looked around, realizing there were no dogs. He hadn’t brought them in. He set down his glass and reached for the unlit lantern, lighting it to go and gather them.

Outside the dusky darkness had settled long ago in the shadow of the forest. The dogs had settled patiently together in groups and pairs to keep warm as they waited for him. When they heard him, a few trotted to the gate excitedly. Will smiled, it was impossible not to smile with them. By simply being, they eased his mind of the things he thought and felt. All he felt from them was their eager, and unconditional love and devotion, that he tried his best to match. He whistled, and they all came to meet him at the open gate, they followed back towards the front door.

He’d only just shut the door, when a few started to perk their ears up. Turning their heads to listen, a few and then they all heard what he couldn’t. Micha whined and a few others mimicked her as Rochefort barked. He stared, they all began to whine and bark, agitated. Pacing in the living room.  
Whatever it was they could hear was upsetting them, he watched patiently it was suddenly that he heard it. At first, he thought it was the scream of person, it was hard to hear over the barks and whines of the pack.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the scene that started everything for me, Hannibal and Will finally meet.  
> I still really have no clue how this is going to get resolved, but it'll be what it becomes.
> 
> Thank you for the 300 hits.

He whistled and the pack reluctantly quieted as he listened. It was like a scream, a shriek distant but he was certain it was a doe. Will cringed, it was as though it resonated in his skull now that he heard it. He rubbed at his throbbing temple, he could feel a headache coming on from his earlier exertion. This was not something he had the strength to ignore. He paced across his small home.

Will plucked the lantern off the table and moved towards the door. He stopped lantern in hand, the other just above the door knob. The doe’s cries rung in his ears as he pinched his eyes shut. He could picture her clearly in his mind; frightened and alone: easy prey. He knew with how clearly, he could hear her cries, that undoubtedly a predator could too. She would cry and cry until something finally came, but not to aid. He clenched his fist, hesitating. The forest where no man tread at night. He could feel his heart thumping erratically in his chest.

He was afraid. Even though they were only stories, he did feel all their fear when they told them. Twisted, dark and vacuous; like a gaping pit formed in their center as they shared the old tales. Whether the monster was real he couldn’t say, even with his gift. But their fear was, almost to becoming a specter present as they spoke.

Will didn’t hesitate longer, he looked back and called for Micha, she jumped to her paws and was at his side as he resolutely swung the door open before them. Micha would find the doe through the dark and distance easily, he’d follow. As ready as he could be, he drew open the gate and Micha immediately round the fence headed directly for the forest. As Will had known and dreaded.

He started at a slow careful trot, they were off the path immediately. The ground uneven and littered in forest debris. Eyes forward, eyes down, making sure his way was clear. Micha some ways ahead just at the edge of the light; she was an obedient and clever girl, slowing her own pace to not leave her master behind. She paused sniffing the ground, raising her head to listen as Will caught up to her.

“Where next girl?” He asked as he glanced about the darkness, surrounded by tall skinny shadows, he swallowed nervously.

His imagination was ramped up, compounded by his nerves and throbbing head. Everything could be nothing, or anything in this darkness. Micha started deeper into the woods. Will steeled himself and followed, lantern swinging; eyes up, eyes down over the treacherous forest floor. The doe’s cry broke the silence and Will glanced back over his shoulder.

He jerked to a stop, his boot caught in a fallen branch. He’d just caught himself as he freed his boot and looked desperately around. The doe’s shrill cries seemed to surround him in the darkness, disorienting him. They hit him from opposing directions echoed in the vastness of the forest.

He glanced about having lost his bearings, each side of the forest looking identically familiar and foreign as he searched for Micha. He exhaled a shaking breath seeing something move in the darkness out of the corner of his eye. Instinctually, he turned only to find the same tree-thick darkness. His lips trembled, he managed the first syllable of Micha’s name as she appeared hurriedly at his side, having doubled back for him. He exhaled sharply smiling crookedly, relieved to have her back.

“Good girl,” he called rubbing her head. “Let’s go.”

With that Micha bound on to the edge of the light again, heading in the opposite direction Will had been facing.

He heard the doe before he saw her as they came to the thicket of blackberry bushes. She was knelt on the ground, her head bobbing panicked, as she tried to stand and run at the sight of Micha’s fast approach. Will slowed and called Micha to him as he lowered the lantern next to her. The doe stopped trying to pull her snared leg free as Will stopped and spoke softly to her.

“It’s alright,” He called softly trying to steady his heavy breathing. He took in the scene; she was a skinny shaking doe, maybe not even a full year old. Her back left hoof had been caught in a rabbit snare, and although it was set to catch small prey it had snared her all the same. Strong rope and a secure knot had left her captured among the blackberry bushes.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Will called quietly as he reached for the knife on his belt loop. “But I do need to cut the snare.”

The doe took a few timid shuffling steps, having nowhere to go as she stared at him. It was there, in the lantern light, that he realized how clear blue and bright her eyes looked. He’d never seen a blue-eyed deer before. It was both fascinating and terrifying how human her blue eyes made her seem. He felt pained by her ordeal as he slowly neared her. Her coat was splatter in mashed berries, but she didn’t seem to have any injuries. Frightened and thin as she was, she was still a fair-sized beast that could hurt him just the same if he wasn’t careful. He approached crouched, letting the doe relax after every crunch of the foliage underfoot.

When he was close enough, will reached out and secured the thin rope in his hand as he drew the blade to it with his right hand. The sharp blade made short work of the strained tether.

Free the deer shuffled back; finally, properly, back on her legs. However, she was cornered by the thicket of blackberry bushes behind her. The only way to freedom was forward, through Will. Will realized this at the same moment she did, as she set her blue eyes on him. As quickly as he could, he moved back as she went charging toward him, only narrowly missing him. She snorted and shook her head as though steading herself as Will watched her in the lantern light. She didn’t flee, she moved briskly around the blackberry bushes as though to put distance between them.

Micha jumped to her feet growling. Shuffling back and forth with sharp whinny barks, as though she wanted to charge towards the doe.

“Micha!” Will called. “Sit.”

Micha whined and shuffled back into a sitting position, with a quiet growl. He watched her, she seemed agitated. She sat uneasily, in the same spot Will had called her to. He rose to his feet and reclaimed the lantern in his right hand, dusting himself off.

Will froze as the doe came to stand next to an ominous bulking black tree trunk, just out of the reach of the light. He swallowed tensely, as he adjusted his glasses with his left hand and raised the lantern higher with his right. The forest undergrowth was thick; fallen trees and shrubs and vines from the blackberry bush cast odd shapes and shadows to begin with. But the doe hadn’t fled when he’d freed her, despite Micha, as if she wasn’t afraid of either of them. Only a few yards away her bright blue eyes still sparkling from the lantern light. He realized then, it wasn’t that the tree was out of the reach of the light, but that it seemed to swallow up the light.

The shape shifted then, what he had presumed to be the trunk and branches of a tree were in fact the hunched torso of a human looking form. The head adorned with a magnificent rack of antlers.

Will sucked in air and staggered back his feet catching on the debris as he stumbled back, falling.

Only he did not fall, without a sound an icy hand wrapped around his free wrist and pulled him back upright easily. With the light swinging between them Will saw that a man stood before him. Micha whined and stifled a bark just behind him.

His brain reeling with confusion and relief the only thing he could muster was a breathy thank you, as the man released his wrist.

The man before him stood only a tad taller, broad shouldered and powerful. With a crown of sandy brown hair, with a few silver strands catching the light. A sharply sculpted face, with defined cheekbones, a fine set jaw and pouty but thin lips stood before him.

“You are welcome.” He replied in a silky, accented voice.

Will blinked as though he were expecting this finely dressed vision to disappear from one blink to next, but he didn’t. Will staggered back, there was really a man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, standing before him in the middle of the feared forest.

Will glanced about trying to put together a timeline as quickly as he could, where had this man come from? How was it that he hadn’t noticed him? How did Micha miss him? The man watched him with dark, onyx colored eyes, patiently.

“I- I’m sorry.” Will stammered out, as he pawed his face with his free hand pushing his glasses out of his way as he rubbed his stinging eyes.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” The man replied evenly. “It was I that came upon you, unannounced.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Will replied, readjusting his glasses.

“You’re not supposed to be in the forest after dark...” Will replied composing himself by simply letting go of how the man had caught him off guard, for now.

The man smiled, his lip rising a tick to reveal a sharp smile. An otherwise comforting and amicable gesture, made to feel threatening by their abnormally close distance to one another.

“Neither are you.” He replied amused.

“Yes,” Will conceded. “The doe-”

Will pointed to where the doe had stood, she was gone, only the darkness of the forest lingered there. The man, turned to look himself and turned back to Will.

“Rude little thing,” He replied with a light smile on his lips. “It appears she has gone, without properly thanking you.”

Will looked at him stricken. He joked, but in his gut, he dreaded that he’d been manically urged into the darkness of the forest by a phantom concocted by his mind.

“She’s as quiet as she is quick.” The man replied walking around Will to where the doe had previously stood.

Will steadied his heart, the man confirmed that there had been a doe there. He nodded, as he lifted his head glancing about their dark surroundings; the man walked without a sound back towards him.

“I should- We should be leaving. The woods aren’t safe.” Will murmured stepping back and looking at Micha, she was watching them her ears plastered to her head, tail curled under her, her body low. Will recognized it: fear.

“There are monsters?” The man asked with a pleasant smile, coming to stand in front of Will.

Will gave his temple a quick swipe, his mind was reeling, so many things at once. He stiffly nodded. “That’s what people say.”

The man nodded slowly, dark eyes observing him keenly. “That is what _they_ say...”

 Will’s nervousness was starting to rise. He felt stalked, as though he were being preyed upon. But there was only the man, the strange gentleman in the middle of the forest.

“I must be on my way.” Will replied clearing his throat and starting back in the direction Micha was lingering in.

“Are you going my way...?” Will asked pointing, pausing hoping to get a name. Being strangers in such a small village was not improbable. However, he’d never seen a man as handsome or well-dressed before; a man, like the one before him, would have easily stood out among the locals.

The man smiled pleasantly cocking his head to the side.

“Hannibal Lecter.” The man replied touching his slender hand to his chest and bowing his head courteously. Before extending his hand towards him.

Will closed the distance, passing the lantern to his left hand and taking Hannibal’s hand firmly in his. He felt cold but, solid- real.

“Will Graham.” He answered back, as Hannibal gave him a secure shake.

 “It’s good to meet you, Will.” Hannibal replied. “And I am afraid not. I go a different way.”

“Ah,” Will replied pausing to gesture for Micha to follow him. “Safe travels.”

“To you too…” The man replied bowing slightly as Will turned his back to him.

Hannibal stood watching the lantern swinging lightly in Will’s grasp, as he made his way. Until all he was, was a dark outline of something that looked like a man and the lantern that resembled a tethered star.

Hannibal watched until the light disappeared into the forest and even long after.

* * *

 

“I’m- I’m sorry…” The auburn-haired girl stammered as she saw him approach. He came into existence as though the darkest of the shadows wove together to create him from nothing. Her bright blue eyes glistening with tears as he came to stand before her.

“I got scared.” She whispered, her head down but eyes titled up as she approached him. Watching for any change in his expression, however small. “With what happened to Randall-  I- Then I heard the dogs! I just- I couldn’t change back-”

He shushed her gently as he pulled her into an embrace, her thin frame trembling fiercely against him. “There’s no apology necessary.”

She pulled back from his embrace her shaking diminishing as she looked up at him.

“That was him, it **is** him, isn’t it?” She asked, her frightened face lighting up with excitement.

He smiled gently down at her as he took his hands back from her. “Yes, I am certain it is.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, someone unexpected has joined my wee tale. I hadn't planed him but it felt natural to have him the story. For me, Matt almost works as a counter point to Will.

It was impossible to sneak up on Will Graham. The eruption of excited barking gave the current visitor away before they could even knock on the door. Inside, Buster yapped protectively by the front door. Will pulled the bubbling pot off the fire just as the visitor knocked on the door.

“I’m coming!” Will called wiping his hands down and moving towards the door. “Buster, shush!”

Buster whined and circled around his legs as he opened the door.

“Good morning Will.” Jack Crawford greeted. “May I come in?”

Will nodded and turned into the house, leaving the door open for Jack to follow in after him. Buster gave a grumbled bark and took a sniff of Jack before returning to his spot in front of the fire place.

“Hmm, strawberries...” Jack called taking a deep breath of the sweet scent occupying the home, as he removed his hat and unbuttoned his trench coat. “What are you making?”

Will eyed him briefly before he returned to his task, putting the tall canner pot over the fire. He took the smaller simmering pot from the hook and placed it on his table among the rows of mason jars.

“Jam.” Will replied stirring the content of the pot. “I’m going to venture a guess that you didn’t come for a jar.”

Jack gave a light smile and a nodded. “I wish it was something that pleasant.”

“No, you don’t.” Will replied dipping the ladle into the pot and stirring as he readied the first jar. Jack was not the type to enjoy social visits without a clear and given reason. Especially with Will’s house so far from the village. This was business.

“Did you…” Jack began trailing off, even after so long they hadn’t come up with an accurate name for what Will did.

Will nodded as he put the full jar aside and grabbed a new one.

“You were right about the animal.” Will confirmed.

“Zeller found animal fur on the man’s clothes.” Jack added watching Will fill the jar.

“Did you find what kind?” Will asked wiping the rim of the jar clean.

“Claws and bites seem to point to dog, a large dog or wolf maybe.” Jack elaborated.

“We haven’t had wolves around here in ages…” Will whispered thoughtfully as he gathered a new jar. “They were all killed off.”

“Is that what you saw then?” Jack asked stepping up next to him at the table.

Will looked at him and then down at the pot, for a split second he could taste the blood on his tongue. He nodded.

“A killing, but not a murder.” Jack sighed. “Well, it’ll be a small comfort to the family. Now, I’ll just have to deal with a wild wolf chase-”

“Jack,” Will called looking up at him. Jack stopped and turned back around to face him. He hesitated, he wasn’t sure how he’d take it. The feelings he got were far more reliable, than when he went into his head, there he had no control.

“I saw something else there too.” Will sighed reluctantly, Jack looked at him. He didn’t need to feel him, his expression said it all. _Why are you shoveling more shit on my shit pile Graham?_

“You saw someone else there?” He asked coming back to the table. “A witness?”

Will removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No. It wasn’t a person.” Will continued trying to explain. He looked up, Jack was carefully watching him. Their trust was a product of the long years they’d known each other, without them; He knew Jack wouldn’t believe in what he did. He was not superstitious in the slightest. In his world, every dark deed had a man behind it, there was no need for made up monsters.

Will could see it in his face, searching for a logical translation to his cryptic words.

“No, never mind.” He sighed. Jack stood a minute watching closely.

“Alright then.” He finally said placing his hat back on his head.

Suddenly Jack stopped.

“One more thing Will,” Jack called, Will met his eyes briefly and nodded. “Why were _you_ in the alley?”

Will fidgeted. _Why_ was he in the alley? He didn’t have a good reason to be in the alley. It was out of his way; narrow and maze like behind the store fronts.

“I- I don’t know…” Will answered truthfully.

He looked up, Jack’s pensive expression hadn’t changed. He nodded accepting his answer.

“If anything comes to you, you know where to find me.”

Will nodded and let Jack show himself out. He sighed deeply and glanced at Buster watching him from his spot in front of the fire place.

* * *

 

“So, you saw it?” Matthew asked leaning in close on Will’s right, his hazel eyes ablaze in the dim light of the bar.

Will took a sip of his whiskey. He had decided, against his better instinct, and opted to go to the bar. With his investigation having yielded no usable clues, he’d been trying and get a read of the room. Now, he eyed Matthew and gave him a curt nod.

Matthew’s jaw dropped as he swung back from Will and slammed his hands on the counter top, drawing some annoyed glances.

“What was it like?” He asked swinging back and leaning in close again, Will wrinkled his nose as he took another long sip.

“Dead, Matt.” Will replied flatly.

Matt laughed.

“Well no shit. But what kind of dead?” Matt insisted as he sat back into the stool, giving Will some space. Matt motioned to the bartender for another beer.

Will looked over at him, Matt cocked his head back at him a wide grin across his handsome face.

“The bad kind.” Will replied finally, drinking the rest of his whiskey in one swig and returning the empty tumbler to the counter.

Matt just smiled, as he turned on the barstool to face Will completely, brown beer bottle in hand.

“Alright.” He replied, Will shot him a glance. Matthew Brown was one of the best hunters in the village. He never let anything he set his sights on go. Will had known Matt almost all his life, another orphan.

Matt was different, but unlike him: externally, Matt was like everyone else, even beloved in the village. Matt was different on the inside. Will knew it, and Matt knew he knew.

Matt watched him intently, as he polished off his beer. Will fidgeted getting to his feet and making his way to the exit. He didn’t have to turn around to know, Matt was following.

Once outside the bar, the cold air hit him head on. The nights were getting increasingly cold. The door slammed closed behind Matt.

“You gonna tell me now?” Matt asked sidling up to him as Will walked the near empty street heading home. The way lit by moonlight, and warm light flittering through the shutters of buildings along the way.

Will zipped his coat up and jammed his hands in his pockets.

“Come on,” Matt whined. “You didn’t tell me about the last one.”

“That- I didn’t really see the last one.” Will growled annoyed.

“Well, this one you did, come on!” Matt insisted.

“Someone is dead Matt, it isn’t entertainment.” Will replied.

Matt continued quietly at his side.

To Matt everything was boring, the village dull, its people dregs. His hunting was one of the few things he enjoyed, it earned his living and gave him respect; though he took no pleasure from it. Animals were not what he wanted to hunt. Then, there was Will. Tussled dark curls and down-cast blue eyes, seeing and knowing more than anyone should. There was a power in him.

“It was an animal anyway,” Will called breaking the silence.

Matt smiled looking down at him.

“Well that’s no fun.” He complained. “Was it _The Great Stag_?”

Will looked up at him and Matt burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding! It’s just a bullshit old wives’ tale.”

Will shook his head but couldn’t help but smile.

“If that’s true, then why don’t you camp in the woods?” Will asked. Matt stopped and Will continued a few steps, he stopped and turned back; a small taunting smile playing across his lips.

Matt didn’t seem to like that, Will could feel the air between them tense.

“I don’t need to.” He replied shortly. Will nodded and started back on his way. “What about you? It’s pretty much your backyard.”

“I have actually.” Will replied matter-of-factly. Matt huffed dismissively, but he could tell Will wasn’t kidding.

“You were in the forest at night?” Matt asked surprisingly serious as he cut in front of Will. Will fidgeted, dropping his eyes to the ground, fearing he may have said too much.

“Not _really_ ,” Will backtracked. “I just, kind of took a walk-”

“In the forest? After dark?” Matt interjected, Will’s eyes fluttered up before dropping again with a nervous nod.

Matt watched him silently, before he burst out laughing loudly. Will exhaled relieved as Matt playfully shook his shoulders and they continued.

At the edge of the village, Will parted amicably from Matt. He paused and turned to watch him walk back into town. It was difficult to reconcile the instinct and raw emotion he felt from within Matt, with the pleasant, charming human exterior. In his company, it was easy to fall into that comfortable familiarity that felt like friendship- almost brotherhood. But Will knew better than to trust him, however human he may act. His friend, whom within lay a coiled beast.

Will turned continuing home the rest of the way alone.

The man in the alley hadn’t had a friend on his walk home. It made him extra wary, his ears listening keenly to the solitary crunch of his lone footsteps on the gravel road. The man in the forest had had a friend.

If the man in the alley and the man from the forest were the same man, where was his friend? A successful kill would have merited a good strong drink with a friend, wouldn’t it?

Where did his friend go?

* * *

 

“Well, good morning Will.” A cheery voice called. Will looked around the sterile white and metal fixtures of the make-shift morgue. It was Dr. Chilton’s funeral home, but in emergency cases like this, he allowed the police to use his facilities to house the deceased. A dark-haired woman rose into view, from the other side of the corpse on the metal table.

“Good morning Beverly,” Will sighed returning a small smile. “Is this our man?”

“This is our guy, Will, meet Otto Something-or-other.” Beverly joked motioning towards the man on the metal table. Will moved closer to look down at the man. Pale grey skin, fogged over white eyes the smell of alcohol gone replaced by the overpowering smell of formaldehyde and other antiseptic chemicals.

In the sterile white light of the preparation room, Will knew he wasn’t imagining or hallucinating anything. This was the man from the forest; with the blood wiped clean, Will could see the punctures around his neck. Small but deep, along with twin lines of blue-purple bruising from strong jaws.

“What do we know?” Will inquired.

“We know he’s not a local.” Beverly explained, with two fingers Will lifted the sheet to peek at the long thin gashes on his chest, he hadn’t been opened up yet. “No one has reported any missing male family members.”

“So, Otto Something-or-other?” Will inquired amused righting himself. “He didn’t seem like a Jon Doe?”

“Direct quote.” Beverly smirked. “Jack and Zeller talked to Old Man Able, he only remembered his first name ‘Otto’. Seems the he and a buddy were working up a ruckus at the pub the other night. Claimed they’d killed The Great Stag.”

Will looked at her an eyebrow raised. She laughed as she tugged at the tips of the latex glove on her right hand until her hand was free.

“Did you have anything you wanted to add?” She asked looking at him as she pulled the left glove inside out over her hand. She dropped the spent gloves into the red container on the counter, as she moved to wash her hands. Will considered it, he didn’t feel he had anything to add. Bev and Jack seemed to already know everything.

“You said they were claiming to have killed The Great Stag?” Will asked moving away from the body, toward the instrument table, on it molds of bite marks lay drying.

“According to Gideon.” Beverly replied drying her hands and coming to join him at the instrument table.

“What would you do if someone didn’t believe you…?” Will thought out loud.

“Try and prove it.” Beverly replied, Will nodded slowly eyes focused on the drying plaster. The molds seemed abnormally large, a good inch longer than his biggest dog.

“Exactly, these men were sure they’d killed The Great Stag.” Will continued. “But only one was found dead. What happened to the other man?”

“He went to get the proof?” Beverly speculated.

“I think so,” Will replied turning towards her. “Do we know where they were staying?”

“No. Gideon said they didn’t have a room at the pub. Maybe they were staying with relatives or friends that haven’t come forward yet?” Beverly proposed, Will nodded thoughtfully.

It was a reasonable possibility, but Will didn’t think so. These men were foreign to the area. They knew their stories but had no respect for their way of doing things. It was completely possible that these men had chosen to camp in the woods. Not camping in the forest for fear of a story would seem ridiculous to outsiders.

“I’m gonna to get going.” Will called, Beverly looked at him and nodded.

“I’ll tell Jack you stopped by.” She replied, Will nodded and made his way towards the exit.

Would it do any good to tell them, he’d met these men before? Will wondered as he made his way out, catching Fredrick Chilton’s eyes on him as he left. No, having happened upon them in the forest contributed nothing. They seemed like unpleasant men, but Gideon had confirmed that much already.

Once outside the funeral home he decided he had enough daylight for a quick stroll in the woods, maybe he could find their camp if his hunch was correct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm getting close to the end of my tale, thank you to all of those who have taken the time to read this.   
> I'm pretty new to sharing fics and don't have a lot of experience with smut (except reading it XD)... so really, I'm afraid I'm going to muck it up. But, I'll see how comfortable I feel with it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much the beginning of the end, everything will start to unravel for poor Will.  
> As he and Hannibal discover the final body.

Will froze, his home was completely quiet. There was no way that there had been a knock on the door. Outside, the dogs were completely silent. He listened intently, almost certain his mind was playing a trick on him. He made his way to the door, peeking through the window. The man on his doorstep met his eyes and smiled pleasantly.

Will searched his mind, he knew the man, his name was unique.

“H-Hannibal?” He called, he was correct, Hannibal smiled and nodded.

Will backed up fumbling with the deadbolt on the door.

“Good afternoon Will.” Hannibal called politely, Will nodded mumbling a greeting as he motioned for Hannibal to step inside.

Will peeked at him as he closed the door, Hannibal glanced about his small home. Eyes coming to rest on the things he’d gathered on the table.

“Am I interrupting?” He inquired.

“Ah- Well,” Will began returning to the table and the satchel he’d been packing. “I was going to go into the woods.”

“Oh, so you knew?” Hannibal asked seeming surprised.

“I- I’m sorry?” Will asked, realizing their conversation was missing some context.

Hannibal smiled amused.

“The reason for my visit, I spied one of your dog’s climbing over your fence.”

“Winston.” Will sighed, resting his hands on the table top, he didn’t need to wait for Hannibal’s description.

“A coppery bespeckled dog?” Hannibal asked, Will nodded. His heart suddenly sank hoping his dog hadn’t located the missing man, whom Will feared dead. “It was only a short time ago.”

Will removed his glasses as he rubbed his tired eyes.

“I could accompany you,” Hannibal proposed.

Will replaced his glasses, and gave Hannibal the best smile he could muster.

“Thank you, but there’s no reason to trouble you further.”

“There’s no trouble at all,” Hannibal smiled, Will nodded.

“Then, I’d appreciate the company.” Will conceded with a tired smile.

* * *

 

They’d walked most of the way in a comfortable quiet. Will leading them along the forest path he’d used before. Will glanced at him, there was a tug at his core when he laid eyes on him. Almost like an uncomfortable tightness in his belly. It wasn’t painful, but feeling it, made him extra aware of its cause. So, he avoided looking at him. Even though he was fascinated by the stranger, who was impeccably dressed. He looked out of place, but carried himself as though the forest, or any space he occupied, were his domain.

Hannibal turned catching his eyes and Will quickly turned away. Feeling his cheeks grow warm in the crisp air. The corner of Hannibal’s lips ticked up, in a small unseen smile.

“When I informed you, your dog had gotten loose, you seemed disproportionately upset. Is there something else worrying you Will?” Hannibal inquired piercing the quiet crunching of the path beneath their feet.

Will caught his eyes, for a second, amber colored in the daylight; before looking anywhere but at him, as they continued.

“Worried.” Will replied shortly. “The forest is dangerous.”

Will peeked again catching Hannibal’s profile. Hannibal didn’t press it; but he was sure he didn’t believe him. Will considered being honest, but there was no time as he spotted what he’d been searching for. He let out a heavy sigh, relieved that what had drawn Winston into the forest was the carcass of the buck.

“Winston!” Will called as the dog’s head popped up from inside the belly of the buck. He wagged his tail but didn’t move towards Will, too engrossed in his fresh meal.

Will huffed as he trekked up, he’d have to leash Winston. Hannibal followed him up the slight incline.

Will noticed the cleared path that lead to the buck, it had been dragged, and then the task was abandoned a few feet away. His boot struck against one of the many discarded beer bottles that littered the ground.

Winston sniffed around the carcass, insects buzzing around its eyes and in the animal’s nose. The smell was strong, but not overpowering. He looked over at Hannibal, who stood at a distance watching.

Will knelt and whistled as Winston finally trotted toward him. Will looked back, Hannibal approached slowly, staring at the animal. Will could feel his sadness as he turned to examine Winston. Avoiding his bloody muzzle, as he secured the leash to his collar.

“What a waste.” Will observed. “It seems they didn’t take much from their kill.”

“No, they killed merely for sport.” Hannibal replied coldly. His eyes set on the large days old carcass. Its antlers had hastily and messily been sawed off. The wound in its belly was sloppy, possibly done by a scavenger.

Will rose to his feet as he allowed Winston to lead him away from the animal. It was as though Hannibal was mourning the buck. He tugged on Winston’s leash and he redirected, moving further into the woods.

Will stopped. From behind a tree, he could see antlers jutting out, he looked back but went without Hannibal. Winston was suddenly interested as he moved in that direction.

He came upon the tree, a length of rope was secured to a branch high above, the taunt length pinned into the soil with a metal tent stake. Will walked around the trunk and froze at the sight before his eyes. It was a man, he presumed it was the hunter’s companion. The body swung softly above him, as he scanned it. The buck’s antlers had been brutally forced into the man’s skull. Rope around his throat kept his head up and in place. His arms were pulled awkwardly over his head, secured to the gambrel.

Winston pulled on the leash wanting to go closer. But Will didn’t allow it, the man had been disemboweled, properly, unlike the buck. His entrails in a gory pile on the ground below him.

Hannibal approached immediately looking up to the display above them.

“Maybe there is something lingering in these woods.” Hannibal murmured, turning over his shoulder to look at Will. He swallowed nervously, his heart hammering in his chest. Hannibal on the other hand didn’t seem at all fazed by what was in front of them. He couldn’t read him clearly, and trying and failing was making him more anxious.

Will kept his eyes on him, the knot in his throat tightening like a noose around his own neck.

“This monster has only ever been seen by the dead.” Will growled, Hannibal pondered it and nodded. Hannibal turned fully to face him eyes locked on his, there was an infallible truth reflected in his eyes. Will couldn’t escape.

His mind was suddenly swimming, his hand came to his scalding temple. His eyes couldn’t focus, his breathing ragged. Winston erupted in fierce barking, that shook his head like an earthquake. Will felt his legs wobble under him as he lost hold of the leash. Staggering, fighting to stay standing.

“Winston-” He called unsure whether his throat produced any sound as Winston snapped barking, circling around him. Hannibal’s outline came into his line of sight. Anchoring his vision to a single point, like a beacon. A black form lining his edges, like a shadow; cast large following him. Winston’s barking was directed at him. Will feared simultaneously for Hannibal and for Winston.

Hannibal raised a hand to Winston and he stopped barking immediately. Lowering his head, but refusing to move away from Will as Hannibal drew closer.

Will’s eyes fluttered one last time and fell closed as he suddenly felt himself falling upwards.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will must lead Jack to the hunter's body and has another disturbing experience when he seeks out answers.

Will exhaled sharply as he pushed the door open, preparing himself. Jack would ask questions, and he wouldn’t be able to answer all of them.

He’d only awakened a few hours ago, in his home, in his bed. Winston and all the other’s inside and accounted for. He would have almost dismissed it as a dream, except for the nagging feeling that pulled him back into the woods. When he’d given in, and trekked back into the forest, he’d found the body there just like before.

There had been no trace of Hannibal, and as of right now Will had no intention of mentioning him.

“Hey,” Beverly smiled looking up from a notepad.

“H-Hey,” Will cleared his throat as though to steady himself. “Is Jack here?”

“In his office.” She replied motioning with her head. “Watch out though, he’s not in a good mood.”

Will didn’t bother asking, it didn’t take much to put Jack Crawford in a bad mood. Will gave a weary smile.

The halls in the police station were clean and warm. It gave a feeling of safety the moment you entered the door, or at least it was how he usually felt. Even though previous visits had always been for an unpleasant task. Those unpleasant things had been getting increasingly worse, he’d gone his whole youth without there being a murder. Now there’d been three.

When he knocked and opened the door to Jack’s office, he found him behind his desk. Jack eyed him sardonically as he continued through the file.

He gave no welcome as Will closed the door behind him and took one of the empty chairs across from him.

Will waited patiently, silently, scanning the familiar office.

After a long period of silence, Jack finally gave an exasperated sigh and closed the file.

“That friend of yours, Matt, is a useless hunter.” Jack stated, rising to his feet. Will’s face scrunched both confused and insulted. “He couldn’t identify the bite molds.”

“I saw those molds too Jack, they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen either.”

He didn’t seem the least bit interested as he leaned against his desk.

“What have you got Will?” He asked changing the subject.

Will looked at him and then down again. He gripped the wooden arms of the chair anchoring himself.

“I-” He began stopping abruptly to lick his dry lips. “I found the man’s friend.”

Jack stood with arms crossed over his chest; waiting for the rest of it.

“I spoke with Beverly.” He continued. “She gave me some information. I then, suspected they might have camped in the woods. So, I went-”

“Alone?” Jack interjected, Will looked up and then down again, and nodded stiffly.

“Your **job** ,” Jack began. “Is to consult.”

Will nodded again.

“NOT TO CONDUCT INDEPENDENT INVESTIGATIONS!” Jack erupted slamming his fist on the desktop. Will jumped in his seat as he looked up at him. “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“I didn’t think I’d find anything!” Will snapped back, realizing it was a blatant lie. He **knew** he would find him, that was why he hadn’t told them. He looked up at Jack, he was clearly fuming.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS DOES TO OUR INVESTIGATION!?” Jack demanded. “TO YOU!?”

Will flinched but knew he had no way to counter Jack’s anger. He’d just have to weather it.

“Besides putting yourself in danger! You put this investigation in jeopardy!” Jack continued his tone lowering from booming to lecturing. Will ventured his eyes up, the worried expression he saw on Jack’s face was worse than his anger.

“I know Jack,” He called finally. “I’m sorry.”

Jack stood quiet. Will couldn’t help feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

“This is the second body you’ve found Will-”

“Of course I found it Jack, I was looking for it.” Will snapped, his heart accelerating. He knew Jack was just voicing the conclusion people would jump to, once this news spread. He was trying to prepare him, he’d be thankful if it wasn’t for the sting of suspicion in his tone.

Everyone else could suspect him, they would do so without invitation. But Jack couldn’t. Jack was what tethered him to his innocence, when he was mired in the guilt of others.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you, I didn’t do this Jack.” Will cried trembling. “I- I’m not guilty.”

But he couldn’t deny that he had no explanation for the lingering taste of blood on his tongue.

* * *

 

Will led them into the forest, the whole trek was uncomfortable, quiet, and uneventful. Well, except for the glances. But as it always was, they didn’t have to say anything. It hung like a fog, imperceptible to everyone but him. The idea, that he was taking them to _his_ crime scene.

It didn’t help in the least that this crime had most certainly been committed by human hands.

When they arrived at the scene Jack immediately began giving his team orders. Will glanced at Jack’s sour expression, steely eyes peering at the body that swung gently above.

“Get to work!” He snapped, when he noticed several people from his team were gawking at corpse.

Will removed his glasses as he moved to stand closer to the body. He could see them, glancing at him, as they combed the perimeter for evidence. Curious of what he did and how he did it.

He pocketed his glasses in his jacket as he took a controlled breath. The chatter and movement around him dimmed as he focused. He could hear the branch groan above as the body swung towards him, like a pendulum.

His hands at his side, he tapped his middle finger against his thigh.

“ _Where did his friend go?_ ” He breathed, his own words sounded distorted in his head.

Slowly the daylight faded away into dawn and into the darkness of night. The entrails vanished from the ground, the rope undone, and the man gone from the tree.

_Will felt the closest thing to happiness. A lightness in his chest, that made his skin tingle. His breathing was hard, heart hammering, his muscles ached comfortably from exertion. He felt his lips twitch up into a smile. The air was cool and carried a hint of moisture, he could hear the crickets and frogs in their nightly chorus over the gurgling sound of water nearby._

_Beneath his bare feet he could feel a moist patch of grass and soil as he wiggled his toes in the comfortable softness._

_He inhaled, the iron-heavy smell of spilled blood filled his nostrils._

_Will frowned, this dream felt too real. He worked his sleep heavy eyes open. His blurry vision giving way to darkness. He was standing in the middle of the forest, drenched in night._

_His looked around panicked, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. After a few blinks, he could see better, but not much more than darkened forest. Will touched his hands to his face, only to realize they were slick. He froze, as he cautiously licked the cool liquid off his bottom lip… Blood._

_He peered down at his hands, black to his elbows. His shirt stuck to his body with sweat and blood. Above, the moon broke through the passing clouds and heavy canopy. He staggered back and stepped on something pliable but firm. He spun around, and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach._

_At his feet lay a man, his throat cleanly sliced open. He was dying, slowly drowning in his own blood. This man’s blood was on his hands and lips._

_Will stared, the blood bubbling up from his neck and pouring out black in the moonlight._

_The man stared at him, he could feel his body shaking- but not from fear._

_“I found you.” Will hissed as he pounced, sitting with his full weight on the man’s chest. The man jerked under him, but he wasn’t strong enough to push him off._

_Will leaned forward pressing his full body weight onto the man’s chest, the blood gushed out, his panicked eyes locked on him. Will stared back, smiling tenderly down at him as he watched the light flicker, with a final, pointless gasped breath._

_Will sat a moment before he rose to his feet. He stood over him listening, the forest had fallen silent. Clouds had obscured the moon again, throwing the forest back into deep darkness._

_He looked up, a tall figure stood amongst the trees watching him with white eyes that shown like stars. Taut black skin over a frame of prominent bones and long limbs, black antlers decked the top of the figure’s head._

_Will stepped back away from the body, putting it between himself and the creature. He bowed his head, and moved backward away from the body. The kill was his, but this was an offering._

_The creature moved soundlessly over the forest floor, it stopped and peered down at the man before moving to stand before him._

 “Will,” Jack’s voice called piercing through the image like a ray of blinding light. He staggered, fighting to stay in the image created by his mind. Everything was disintegrating, crumbling like charred paper. “Will!”

His hands came over his eyes first, his head throbbing. He flinched, it was as though he’d been wrenched from the deep into the blinding light of the surface.

The air burned his lungs, light stung his eyes as he struggled to regain himself.

“Jack?” Will asked groggily through squinted eyes.

“When did you lose your knife Will?” Jack asked sharply.

“My- My knife?” Will struggled blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted. “I haven’t-”

Will stopped, realizing that Jack held his knife in his gloved hand, bloodied blade and hilt. Instinctively, Will reached for the sheath on his belt loop. His heart dropped finding it empty.

Jack could read it on his face, panic and dread. Will couldn’t even put the words together to try and form an explanation. He hadn’t even noticed he’d lost it.

“Jack-” Will pleaded trembling.

“You’re coming back with us.” Jack replied, motioning for an officer to stay by his side.

Will glanced up at the man, falling quiet, uncomfortable with the situation.

“Clear out.” Jack dismissed them, returning to the scene.

Will made his way back towards the path, the officer following behind without a word.

He found a downed log and took a seat, observing the investigation, literally, from the sidelines.

“You can have a seat.” Will called motioning to the log. The officer looked down but said nothing; as he too watched the others working throughout the scene.

Will glanced up at him, he could feel his nervousness. The last thing he wanted to do, was share a conversation with the suspect. Will gave a weary sigh as he rubbed his tired face. Staring towards the scene, he exhaled slowly.

Removing the officers from the scene first. His middle finger tapped against the bark of the log as he exhaled again, closing his eyes and opening them back up to the familiar darkness of night.

_Where did his friend go?_

It’d been his last thought as he’d parted from Matt.

Now it seemed to resound in his skull, the first thought in his head as he dove into this crime.

_Bare feet over rocks, branches and debris. He felt them, but they caused no discomfort. He was moving too fast to care. He was hunting, his prey was just ahead of him. Fear high, coursing through him, but it was tinged with hope. He thought he could get away, it was what he wanted him to think._

_The man had left the path; lost in the woods too long. Terrified, exhausted, dehydrated, this was a very one-sided game. He was scrambling through the woods. Lost and disoriented, gasping for breath, his screams as good as whimpers in the empty night._

_He heard the man stumble and crash into the forest floor ahead of him. Will came up on him fast, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him onto his back._

_The man fought against him, breathless, weak from exhaustion. Will slammed him into the ground with such force that it left him limp and dazed beneath him._

_Will drew his knife from its sheath and swept it across the man’s throat effortlessly. The gash on his throat opened like red lips smiling as the blood gushed through._

_In that instant, the man jerked up knocking up into Will, his head butting Will right in the nose. The knife tumbled from his hand; he brutally shoved the man down into the ground until his fight bled out. When the man fell still, Will rose to his feet. His brain felt waterlogged, his vision blurred. Will staggered forward, the warm liquid cooling quickly on his skin, his eyes fluttered close heavy._

Will gasped, as he came to out of his mind with a start. Shuddering as though the officer would see him barefoot and covered in blood. His fingers digging into his knees as though he were holding on for dear life.

He looked up to the disdainful glare of the officer as he swallowed nervously. Swiping at his sweaty temple, his blood surging loud in his ears.

He dropped his head between his knees, trying to calm the fierce trembling that shook his body. He felt like he was going to fall apart with how hard his body was shaking. He struggled to breathe as he stared at his boots.

His eyes suddenly sharply focused on the leather of his toecap, he followed the discolored stitching over his boot welt. The stains from years of wear suddenly seemed meaningless, his eyes pulled to the coppery spots so small they were almost invisible. They were insignificant, but since he’d noticed them, the air that he’d breathed carried the scent of blood.

Will shut his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath, the smell, now present in each inhale. It couldn’t be their blood, it had to be a residual vision from the dream.

The ‘dreams’ often felt real, like he slipped into someone else’s skin. This time it felt like he couldn’t get out of it. As if his skin was no longer his own, none of it felt right.

He lifted his head and rubbed his temple harshly with the pads of his thumbs. Maybe, it was just that there were too many bad things pouring into him.

Unfortunately, his ability didn’t give him a way to purge the things he allowed into himself, and he’d never taken in so much death. He felt like he was losing himself in it. Drowning. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind in comfortable empty darkness, but even there he felt stalked.

* * *

 

_Jack, we may be jumping the gun, but I’m pretty damn sure this guy died the same night as the guy in the alley.”  Zeller reported, his voice tense._

_Jack was quiet._

_“And… One of the techs, took a look inside the open chest cavity.”_ Price called nervously. Will could hear them clearly, he listened intently.

_What about it?”_ Jack snapped.

_Pieces were missing. Important ones.”_ Zeller added.

_His lungs and heart were cleanly removed.”_ Price clarified.

_“Like a hunter would do?”_ Jack asked annoyed.

_“Yes, but no.”_ Price waffled.

_“He’s just being fastidious.”_ Zeller groaned.

_“Am not! I’m doing my job.”_ Price snapped. Jack gave a loud exasperated sigh. “ _It just doesn’t feel like a hunter’s technique. It seems too clean, too exact. I just want to state it for the record.”_

_“It’s on the record.”_ Jack remarked. Will could hear their footsteps growing louder as they approached.

“Get him back to the station.” Jack’s voice ordered from above him. “No, don’t cuff him.”

Will looked up to see Jack accompanied by another officer, Will rose to his feet.

“Aren’t I a suspect?” Will asked bitterly, the words double-edged now.

“You wouldn’t be, if you’d just come to us from the start.” Jack snapped.

“You’re right.” Will sighed. Jack watched him a moment, face pale, exhaustion, and nerves clear on his face.

“Why this- this display?” Jack queried.

Will thought about it, about what he’d experienced.

“It was an offering.” Will explained with a sigh. “The recipient, wanted to show that it was received and appreciated.”

“So, there are two psychopaths and some kind of dog on the loose?”

“Jack,” Will called, he stopped and turned to face him. He hesitated, he couldn’t ask.

His expression unreadable. Without asking, Will knew. Jack wanted to believe in his innocence, but from his position as an officer of the law and the given facts. It forced him to disregard his possible biases and look at the evidence and circumstances objectively. Just looking at those, he knew how things looked.

He was struggling to ascertain his own innocence.

“Jack,” Will called timidly. “Please have someone look in on my dogs.”

Jack gave him a nod before the officers began to escort him out of the woods. Will started onto the path when he froze, suddenly feeling as though a chill shot down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for the late update I try to do it around the 20th or before but I got side tracked.  
> On top of that I'm having a lot of mixed feelings about the next chapters, but meh.  
> I'm going to see it through to the end.
> 
> This is it, Will is suspect number 1!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: After three murders have occurred in a small village and without any leads, Will finds himself on the outside of the investigation. When his knife is found at the scene of the third murder, Will is take into custody, to make matters worse his mind is increasingly unreliable.  
> This is it! It is almost done.

Walking down the hall of the police department in the light of the early evening had never seemed so daunting. The light, pouring through the west facing windows, cut by the vertical bars cast forlorn shadows across the formerly warm hallway.

He swallowed nervously, it was only questioning. He’d sat in on them on occasion, but he’d never been the subject.

He didn’t need to look back, to know he was flanked on both sides by officers. It had been out of courtesy that he had not been cuffed. As though to protect his image, his lip curled bitterly. Give it a couple of hours, they’d spread the gossip all the same; confirming all their suspicions. He’d never be clear, not matter how the evidence might shake out in the end.

A hand on his shoulder, jolted him as they stopped him in front of one of the interview rooms. The other officer unlocked and opened the door and motioned for him to go in. Will stepped in the grey box. A two-way mirror made up a large portion of the adjacent wall.

The door closed behind him with a gentle click, that made him jump. His nerves were fried, suddenly feeling confined in such a familiar space was awkward and uncomfortable. He moved to the metal table bolted securely to the floor. He slid his hands over the cold smooth surface as he sank into the flimsy wooden chair, creaking miserably under his weight.

He removed his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hands, as he released a heavy sigh.

_He opened his eyes to the vacant darkness._

_This space was where he was supposed to be alone, but he didn’t feel alone._

_He turned to look over his shoulder, it was there hanging in the darkness like smoke, swirling, and shapeless._

_He turned around fully and walked towards it, his footfalls resounding across the emptiness. Suddenly, the floor gave under him and he sank in, he looked down. The floor had become a red puddle around his ankles, he steadied himself and continued towards the smoke. Each step sloshing and heavy as though he was sinking further into the red muck with each step._

_He reached a hand towards the smoke, it quivered at his approach and reached a swirling tendril back towards him. Will watched as the smoke suddenly began to roil violently expanding and contracting, filling to take on the shape of a man._

_Will pulled his hand back, but couldn’t move away, sunk into the red mud up to his knees._

_The darkness in the form of a man stood before him, a layer of dusty black soot coated its new body. Its hands came up to its face and pawed away the soot to reveal his own face; bloody and filthy, smiling back at him._

_Will sank slowly into the red mire, staring up at himself. The opaque red waves washed over his face. The last thought he had before he was swallowed up was terrifying: magnificent._

Will sat up with a start, to find Jack standing at the door. He blinked a few times and the dark shape dissipated like an afterimage.

“You’re free to go.” Jack called. Will pulled himself to his feet confused, replacing his glasses clumsily.

Will didn’t know what to say, he was afraid to say anything.

“Matt vouched for you.” Jack explained, voice tense. “Said you two got stone cold drunk at your cabin.”

Will’s heart clenched in his chest. He forced any expression from his face, as he returned his eyes to meet Jack’s scrutinizing gaze. That was not true: no one was ever with him, especially the night of the murders. He’d been home alone except for his dogs.

He was afraid to move, afraid it might be a trap or worse an illusion. He held his tongue as he moved towards the door. Jack watched him but said nothing, Will slipped through the door and into the hallway. It looked completely ordinary, he stopped himself from glancing back at Jack.

“Is he here?” Will asked trying to steady his voice.

Jack shook his head, Will nodded as he set his sights on the exit. He started towards it, his gait quick- he slowed, trying to keep from seeming suspicious.

Once he was outside of the police station he ducked between two buildings. Clear of eyes, he released the breath he’d been holding and doubled over on himself, afraid he was going to vomit. His eyes glassy with tears, both relief and fear. He took a shuddering breath and bit his knuckle to keeping from crying out.

The level of panic coursing through him, was constricting, as if he were collapsing in on himself. Not only had Matt lied for him, he was sure he was now in the woods with the monster that occupied it.

His freedom would be short-lived, once Jack learned the truth; but Matt could be in real danger. The sun was already low in the western sky. By the time he made it to the woods it would be dark. But he had no choice.

* * *

 

The sun was setting fast, lines of gold light shown through the trees. He couldn’t help but slow to a canter. The forest seemed ethereal as if it were coming alive as the sun was setting.

It was just one moment to the next, that the golden glow faded into a cool grey hue. The sun in the distance, past the trees and obscured by clouds, shown white through its shroud. The sky a fading blue behind it. Only a breaths difference, but the world was changed now.

Where was all that light and life? Now, just gloom and grey seeped through the forest as though that life had changed from something heavenly to something purely earthly. A foreign pulse alongside his own, the air entering his lungs charged. He couldn’t help but tremble, he felt as though he were walking over the back of a sleeping giant.

The gunshot sounded like a clap of thunder and his head snapped in its direction. Clear and singular; no echo, no more games; as if the forest wanted him to know the direction. He turned immediately and started that way, his heart racing as he drew sharp desperate breaths. He tore his way through the forest.

He came to a sudden stop at the scene before him. A face off: Matt, rifle in hand raised and aimed at a large grey wolf.

Will was silent, neither had noticed his arrival.

The wolf lurched forward, struggling to stay on his feet. A red flower bloomed on the animal’s side, blood from the bullet wound stained its grey coat and trickled down. The wolf raised its head and howled a long, lonesome, pained note. It seemed to resound through the darkening forest, and caused his heart to constrict.

Matt slid the bolt handle forward clearing the chamber and fired again. Will’s whole body shook as though he’d been struck. The shot was a direct hit in the wolf’s upturned throat. The sound was cut short, and the wolf collapsed.

Matt lowered his weapon, a triumphant smile on his face as he closed the distance to the fallen wolf. When his brow knotted, and his mouth fell agape, horror warping his features. What he found in place of the wolf was the curled bloody body of a man. Dirty limbs folded around the wound on his naked torso. Blood pouring from his mouth and side staining his pale skin crimson; the bullet had mangled the side of his neck, the blood surged from him like a broke floodgate.

“Oh god!” Matt gasped horrified. The man’s ice blue eyes stared up at him. Matt trembled. The man groaned, trying to speak, a final gurgling hiss escaped his bloody lips and then he was still.

Will’s breath caught in his throat. Matt suddenly froze, eyes rising slowly.

A massive stag came into the clearing, easily 6-feet from shoulder to hoof, crowned with a majestic rack of antlers. Will had no doubt he was looking at the legendary Great Stag. It moved smoothly, hooves soundless as it approached the fallen man.

Will couldn’t help but feel fear blossoming slowly in his chest, nothing about this was right. Matt stood awestruck before it, the dead man lay between them. In a breath, the stag was gone, as the monstrous creature from his hallucination materialized in its place. Its towering black form crouched, only a body’s length from Matt; white eyes set on him.

Matt staggered back a few steps, terror clear in his expression. His practiced hands trembling and unsteady as they tried to clear the chamber to fire again. Matt hastily turned his weapon up and fired blindly. The shot rang out as did the wet thump of a hit. But the creature didn’t flinch at the impact. It just stood there, unfazed, eyes locked on Matt.

Matt swallowed, and took another step back. More terrifying than any raging beast; was its indifference. The creature made no motion or sound, before he lunged soundless at Matt. It swiped at him with the back of its long bony hand with such force that Matt was knocked off his feet. He went flying, striking hard against a tree.

“Matt!” Will screamed. He froze immediately. The creature’s gaze now turned to him.

He stood waiting for an attack, but the creature made no movement, simply observing from where it stood now. Tentatively, Will took a step forward, and then another. The creature made no motion, still as a statue as Will crossed right in front of it to reach Matt.

Matt was conscious, groaning as he tried to pick himself up. Will arrived at his side and aided him into a sitting position, Matt groaned and grabbed his side under his right arm.

“Are you alright?” Will hissed, stormy blue eyes locked on the white eyes of the creature.

“Not so much,” Matt grumbled. “Rib’s probably broken.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Will asked glancing at Matt, who gave him a grimaced smile.

“I was kind of expecting a man.” He replied. “That man- What the hell happened? What is that?”

“No clue.”

“I shot it Will, dead in the heart.” Matt offered. “It didn’t even budge.”

“Can you walk?”

Matt groaned as Will pulled him urgently to his feet.

“Think so,” Matt growled through gritted teeth. “Not winning any races though-”

“I’ll buy you time.”

“Will-”

Will glared at him, bright blues lit with ferocity.

“Just do it!” Will snarled, Matt stared, awed by the something waking up in his typically demure friend and gave a resigned nod.

Will didn’t have to say anything; the creature’s eyes were already on him. He moved towards the heart of the woods, away from safety; Matt trudged in the opposite direction. The creature payed Matt no mind as its head swiveled following Will silently, it shuffled on its crouched legs, turning its body to fully face where Will stood.

His heart was thundering in his chest, afraid to take his eyes off it, but he did. Just in time to lose sight of Matt in the encroaching darkness of the forest. Will met eyes with the creature again, there was a clear intelligence within its milky white eyes. This wasn’t an unknown animal, this was some manner of intelligent being. He wasn’t watching the creature; it was watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so... I am super nervous because I will be adding a whole bunch of new tags (of the explicit, adult content, M/M type) within the next uploads.  
> At the same time I'm super excited for the turns getting to the end of the story.  
> Thanks to everyone who's given this fic a read even though it has been a work in progress.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some major story revelations ahead, encountering the monster leads Will to some unexpected truths.
> 
> First of all, posting it took longer than I intended, apologies to anyone who was waiting for the upload.

Will stood completely still. The creature shifted and rose to stand, approaching him with a steady, flowing, human gait. It towered over him as it lowered its head close to Will's face and smelled him with a deep inhale. Will didn't flinch; the creature smelled of soil, moisture, and things that crawled in the undergrowth. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The horned creature eased back and turned its back on him, Will immediately started moving backwards. In a blink, Will could see its monstrous shape reform, again, this time into the form of a man.

His mouth fell open, horror and surprise shot through him like a bolt as the man turned to face him and recognition sunk in like a chill to his very bones.

“H-Hannibal?” Will croaked as the fear surged through his body.

Hannibal smiled at him.

Will’s mind was racing with so many things, his heart hammering frantic in his chest.

Where the monster had towered, Hannibal now stood. Dressed in a burgundy suite and waistcoat, a coal black dress shirt and tie, tokens, reminiscent of the monster.

Will panted, short of breath; as though everything he’d ever known had come undone within him. Staggering back, fighting to remain standing. He shut his eyes tight and pawed violently at his face knocking his glasses off as he pushed his palms into his stinging eyes.

He pulled his hands from his face; Hannibal stood a distance from him watching, ever so patiently.

“I apologize.” Hannibal called. “I had not intended any of this. Though, I feel this to be the best way to get to the heart of the matter.”

“You,” Will began, shaking, terrified to give voice to this new-found truth. “That _thing_ was real. You’re the monster?”

“My form?” Hannibal asked stepping towards him.

Will shuffled back a step. Hannibal stopped.

“A monster? Perhaps...” He replied thoughtfully. “Is that not a matter of perspective? After all, isn’t a spider a monster to a fly? But to man, at best a pest?”

"W- what are you?" Will asked his voice wavering between fear and awe.

Hannibal's dark eyes flickered with light.

"Some would call me a devil, other's a god. Neither would be wrong." He explained amused moving a step closer. "I am specter of a forgotten time."

Will trembled, unable to understand.

Hannibal smiled tenderly at him; but approached no further.

“I am merely an old being, Will, a nearly extinct breed.” Hannibal explained. “Bound to the edges of my domain, I cannot leave this place.”

“Are you the murderer?” Will asked sharply, eyes suddenly like daggers.

“Do you believe me to be guilty of these crimes?” Hannibal asked eyes locked on Will’s.

Will swallowed nervously, dropping his eyes to the ground. Since he’d first met him, Hannibal had been unusually difficult to read.

“I am not innocent.” Hannibal replied. “The old stories are true. Though, for many years, few have chosen to tempt fate from fear. I have not had the pleasure of devouring deserving souls often.”

“Someone gave you gifts?” Will asked aghast. “Another _monster_.”

Will looked behind him to the man, he had seen him as a beast, a wolf like animal. Was he the one responsible for the murders?

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed at him, Will shifted under his gaze.

“It was him,” Will whispered.

Hannibal looked back over his shoulder, the man’s lean body lay coiled, half obscured by the long grass.

“Have you not already known this to be true?” Hannibal asked almost mockingly. Will glared back at him.

It was true, in a way, Will believed in the monsters and the something-else even before he heard the stories. The living shapes hidden, still, in between the cracks. The things you only ever just glimpse.

The things that existed behind his eyelids, alongside the living world that no one else noticed. The kind of things that gave him his ability to see and feel the things he did, when no one else could even understand it.

Will looked at him.

“You knew him then,” Will replied. “This _other_ monster?”

Hannibal eyed him curiously and started towards him again.

Will struggled, wanting to shrink back from him, but he stayed rooted where he stood. He wanted the answers Hannibal seemed to have.

“Yes,” Hannibal called turning from Will to walk back towards the man. “I knew him, this _other monster_ as you call him. But he was not the only one.”

Will froze, it felt like his heart stopped dead for a split second; there was another one?

“Do _you_ not recall those nights? Waking with dirty hands and muddy feet,”

Will’s heart stopped. There weren’t many mornings where he found himself that way. He looked down at his trembling hands.

He knew he sleepwalked on rare occasions. Then and now he had no possible explanation for the things that happened when he was unconscious. He looked up, his body suddenly running hot, trembling.

Hannibal smiled as he circled around the man’s body and walked back towards him, erasing the distance between them with smooth steps.

“I’ve always welcomed you, in whatever form you wore Will.”

Will eyed the shrinking distance between them.

“But how?” Will hissed out shakily. “I am… I’m like him?”

Hannibal stepped towards him, Will flinched at the sound of crunching beneath his step. But didn’t retreat from him.

Hannibal reached across the short distance, putting a familiar hand on his cheek.

Will found the intimate gesture, uncomfortably familiar, and wanted.

He released a shaky breath and closed his eyes as Hannibal’s fingers dipped into the sweat dampened curls on his nape, his thumb gently caressing his cheek.

Will felt his apprehension melt away as his heartbeat eased into a steady pace.

He opened his eyes slowly to Hannibal’s warm smile.

“You do not know me, but you cannot deny you know my touch.”

Will swallowed nervously.

“How is that possible? Why do I know you?” Will asked.

Hannibal’s smile didn’t waver as he took his hand back from Will’s face. Will felt its absence like a pang in his heart.

“That is the question, is it not? How can a stranger’s touch be both familiar and foreign?”

Will ran his hand over his face, realization sinking in.

“I don’t know that I know you…” Will replied, trying to navigate the implication of his own reply. In what he thought were his dreams, he’d met him before.

Will shut his eyes, melting into the memories trickling over his eyelids. As brief as shapes in smoke he saw strong hands, Hannibal’s hands; carrying him, leading him, lifting him up. The memories of gentle caresses and tight grips ghosted across his skin. The sound of dripping water and the taste of blood washing away. The smell of smoke and damp soil.

Will opened his eyes with a shudder, his arms wrapped around himself. He met Hannibal’s eyes, that undeniable familiarity; as though he were looking at a piece of himself nestled in the abyss of his coal back eyes. Hannibal knew him, it was mutual; but he didn’t remember him and that shook him to his core. He wanted to know, those missing parts belonged to him also.

“What am I?” Will shuddered.

“A Judge.” Hannibal replied. “Like he was.”

Will looked at him grieved. He glanced past him at the man dead in the grass.

“Many gods abandoned this plane eons ago.” Hannibal explained. “With them, servants; things like their familiars, guardians, and acolytes.”

“I am, what?” Will exhaled, chest tight.

“You are now the last of a magnificent class of guardian: A Judge. Able to see the hearts and minds of men.”

Will looked down at his hands as the tears blurred his vision.

“You, you’re a _god_?” Will asked incredulously. “You stayed? Why?”

Hannibal smiled amused, besides being more or less unwelcome by his kin; he _chose_ to stay because humans were far more complex and interesting than the other deities. Like the one before him now, a perfect amalgamation of broken pieces. Gifted, with the capacity for great good, and great ill.

“I was curious what would happen.” He replied so blatantly honest, Will couldn’t help but scoff.

“No,” Will groaned, moving backwards. “No.”

Hannibal watched him concerned as Will’s hands came roughly over his face.

“This isn’t real. This is not real.” Will chanted doubling over. “The answer isn’t monsters!”

Will recoiled from him.

“I am not a _Judge_.” He hissed as though that word burnt his tongue. “I can’t do that! I can’t do what he did! That man-!”

Will stopped and stared. He had witnessed it. The man had been in the form of an animal. Matt had shot a massive wolf. What lay there now, growing cold, was a man. Will shook his head violently; these two truths were not meshing together. He’d seen it, but he couldn’t accept it. Much less accept he too was like that.

“This is unfortunate.” Hannibal remarked with a sigh.

Will burst out laughing, as it gave way to choked sobs.

“Will, please-” Hannibal began reaching out to him.

Will didn’t wait a moment longer and ran.

Hannibal did not follow.

* * *

 

The cold night air burned his throat as he swallowed air desperately. Already past the point of exhaustion. The muscles in his legs past pain, going numb, suddenly gave out under him and he went crashing into the forest floor. Will breathed in dirt and rotting leaves as he picked himself up off the forest floor. Unable to get back onto his feet he collapsed again, back into the soil beneath him. He rolled onto his back and struggled to catch his breath, he hadn’t run that hard in all his adult life. Laying on the cluttered forest floor. His chest hurt, his lungs burned, and he couldn’t feel his legs.

He took a slow deep breath and it felt like his whole body filled. The myriad of scents and sounds, the life of the forest. His fear had bled out somewhere along the way. The exhaustion, was satisfying. Like it was what he was meant to do.

Will shut his eyes tightly, if what Hannibal claimed was true, how did it happen? By what manner did he change from man to beast? Was it through will or nature? And now that he knew, could he _make_ himself change?

“ _No Will, do not try to change yourself. Simply, become. It is a part of your legacy after all, become._ ” The words in his head, sounded with the same tone and accent as Hannibal’s. Were they a memory, or something he’d conjured?

His breathing slowed, and he pulled himself onto his knees.

Will relaxed then, like so many times before; his middle finger tapped into the soil. He felt himself falling, becoming someone from _inside_ himself. He shuddered, at the warmth he found, the feeling of home.

It happened as easy as breathing, it was painless like stretching your muscles after having long been confined. When he opened his eyes, he was more alive than he'd ever felt before, even in the guise of the beast.

Will felt the soft dirt under the pads of his paws, the night alight through his new eyes. He could hear so clearly for miles. The living scent of the soil and plants spurred a hunger as he licked his muzzle, tongue running over the top and bottom rows of sharp teeth.

A slight change in the air, and he turned his head. It was there that he noticed Hannibal standing before him smiling; serenely, proud. Just as easy as he changed, he changed back. He stood before the man- no longer afraid.

“Do you see yourself as I see you?” He asked, the expectant rise in his voice audible.

“I’m a werewolf?” Will asked, knees knelt in the damp soil as it seeped in. he stared at his human hands, his eyes sharp and clear. Hannibal gave a low chuckle his eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Nothing so savage.” Hannibal replied. “You belong to a line of guardians, you were born to protect the realms gods occupied.”

“You said the gods left.” Will countered rising to his unsteady legs.

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, taking Will in; His dark curls a wild mess, his exposed skin glistened with sweat, chest rising and falling heavy, heart thundering. His stance wavered but he was not in any way weakened. The man before him was unafraid, the blood coursing through him like a churning river. He was awake. Will’s eyes returned to him, and he focused there.

“Many did. Others have died out; and some linger like specters, at the fringe of man's memory." Hannibal explained wistfully.

“Did you command him, or me, to kill those men?” Will asked, Hannibal’s eyes hardened instantly at the accusation. Will knew he hadn’t; as he stood there, the memories were bleeding through to the forefront of his consciousness.

“I would never force you or Francis to do anything against your will.” Hannibal replied sternly.

Will nodded. _Francis_ , the name felt foreign on his tongue. He didn't know where to draw the line, how to divide the deed. Who had sentenced and who had executed? It blurred together.

Who had bloody hands and who had bloody teeth? Did it matter?

He thought back on that first encounter; the image of the hunter’s crisp in his mind now, tinged with new color and the smell of putrid rot. Guilt: saturated into their skin, eyes, and even their voices. Their crime, he didn’t know it; but it stayed with them.

A residue left on the guilty, that leached in and through them. They could deny it, assuage themselves of their crime, even escape it in the eyes of their very victim. But not a Judge, not him.

It was then, on their first encounter, when he had deemed them guilty. But it had been Francis who had carried out their execution.

He realized now, that he almost felt robbed of the right to do away with them; it felt like a joint act. Somehow, he had lived it, through Francis, and vice versa. With him now dead, he’d have to assume that there must have been some kind of bond between Judges.

It was difficult to tell one’s actions from the others. The memories of their deaths had felt so very real, he was almost certain _he_ had killed them both, but there was just- a small difference in taste. Francis had killed the man in town for himself. _Will_ had hunted the companion in the woods and freely given him to the monster; only after he had killed him.

The careless use of his knife made him fairly certain of this, both men had died the same night. Not at the hands of one killer or beast, but at the hands of two synchronized Judges.

“Have you always known?” Will asked slowly, locking eyes with Hannibal again.

Hannibal returned a plaintive gaze.

“Known? No, hoped.” He sighed. “As you came into adulthood, I feared that perhaps you would never awaken unto yourself.”

Will shuddered, his words carried a tone of loneliness that stirred something in him.

“Then, in sleep, you wandered into my woods.” He smiled. “I contemplated devouring you...”

Will didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult, since clearly his smile showed he found the thought humorous.

“What changed your mind?” Will asked dryly.

“Curiosity.” Hannibal replied. “I saw the possibility for friendship. Francis did not agree. He didn’t believe you could become as he was.”

Will nodded. whatever Francis and he had in common, he could not see a friendship between the three of them happening.

“Not long after, a gift was left near my forest.” Hannibal reminisced.

Will clenched his fists, as though feeling the old ache on his knuckles. The night of the old moon; he remembered, this one was his.

The taste of blood that lingered on his tongue now bore names, one of them, the first victim: Garret Jacob Hobbs.

His body tensed recalling the violent, brutal struggle that ended with Hobbs’ broken neck, and his body dragged into the woods. When next he’d seen Hobbs in the light of day. He’d been sluggish and unable to read the scene. With no visible bruises or wounds, Will had attributed his ache and exhaustion to a hangover.

He looked at the pleasant smile on Hannibal’s face. What had been left of Hobbs was not much to read at all. He recalled the way his stomach had lurched at the sight of him. Limbs strewn about, others missing completely. His belly torn open, the consensus had been scavengers had gotten to him and destroyed any recoupable evidence.

He remembered, the nagging thought: _there wasn’t enough blood on the road. Where had the blood gone?_

Now he knew, the limbs, the organs, and the blood had been claimed by the creature, by Hannibal. Had he left Hobbs in the woods with that intent? Did he give Hannibal a gift, or had Hannibal given him one in disposing of Hobbs?

Will looked up meeting Hannibal’s waiting eyes, he closed the distance between them then.

“So, you want me to be your servant? Kill for you, like Francis did.”

Will locked eyes on Hannibal, he couldn’t hide from him now. Couldn’t keep secrets as well as before.

“No. I have no desire for a servant.”

Will tested him, stepping into his space. It was there, that which no one else was privileged enough to see: the hunger in Will Graham's eyes. Hannibal stood firm, Will’s eyes dropped to his wicked lips.

“Your companionship would be appreciated.”

Will felt his words ghost over his lips. Will’s eyes narrowed sharply as he leaned into him, as if to sniff out a lie. Taking a deep inhale of Hannibal’s scent; it was rich and intoxicating. His nose brushing the hard line of his jaw, Hannibal’s neck was there, a breath from his teeth. Hannibal slowly turned his head, as though offering his neck. He was not the least bit concerned by Will’s intentions.

Will licked his lips as he eased back from him, the two still standing intimately close.

“What if I do not desire yours?” Will asked coldly, Hannibal flinched at his words and swallowed his immediate response tentatively.

“It is within your right.” Hannibal replied stoically. Though Will could feel a surge in his chest; grief, so primal it threatened to knock him off his feet.

Will reached out, capturing Hannibal’s face in his hand, tenderly. The onyx eyes that glimmered back at him did not belong to any powerful god, they were the eyes of a lonely soul.

“I do not desire any one part of you.” Will whispered, his thumb stroking Hannibal’s smooth cheek as the tears threatened to fall from his dark eyes. “I will have all of you.”

Will’s hand slipped down to grasp the back of Hannibal’s neck in place as he timidly leaned in touching his wanting lips to Hannibal’s. The chaste first kiss was immediately returned.

He was caught in Hannibal’s embrace, the arms that snaked around his waist were solid and comforting.

Will felt moisture on his cheek and opened his eyes, pulling back delicately from Hannibal. He was awed, as Hannibal’s teary eyes opened to meet his.

“This is a religious act,” Hannibal whispered, smiling and causing the tears to fall down his cheeks.

“Because you're a god?” Will queried.

“No.” Hannibal replied. “Because _you_ are divine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, part of the reason this took so long was mainly me. So, sorry, again.  
> The next chapter is written and I just have to feel comfortable with so I can post it. Gotta work out the kinks. ;)
> 
> The next chapter will be the end, plus a little epilogue.
> 
> Thanks again for anyone who has taken the time to read through this, and a special thanks to those kind enough to comment.
> 
> Also, I'd like to ask a favor, I'm rubbish at tags so if you think there some I should add let me know and I can do that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it!! The end!! I hope you don’t think I was leaving it to the end to be a tease, it just felt like the proper progression to this story, and honestly, I’m glad. I was super nervous about writing this chapter. I hope the ending is satisfying enough....
> 
> There is also the addition of an epilogue, it was another one of those scenes that was very prominent in my mind, so enjoy.

Will’s heart clenched as he thumbed the tears from Hannibal’s cheeks. Reclaiming his lips with greater fervor. Will’s hunger returned in the urgency of Hannibal’s need. Their kiss igniting a dormant desire in both. Will pressed his body against his as he clutched at him desperately, tugging at his clothes.

Hannibal peeled the clothes from him as gently as petals from a flower, until his milky white torso was bare. Will released a shuddering breath as cold hands explored heated flesh. Hannibal's lust darkened eyes reverently observed Will's every expression. Leaning in close to run his hot tongue over the lean planes of Will's stomach.

Will stifled a moan, hesitant to voice the pleasure he felt as Hannibal's tongue trailed up his sternum. Fingertips pressing hungrily into his exposed hips.

His entire body ran hot, overheated, set aflame at Hannibal's every touch. Every sensation pooling, hot in his gut, achingly hungry, almost alive. His cock half hard already, as he listened to the metal clink of his belt come undone; Hannibal freeing him from his remaining clothing.

He gasped, and his vision failed him as he felt the warm, wet, heat of Hannibal’s mouth envelope and draw him in. He almost felt uprooted as Hannibal took his full, hardening length deep into his throat and back again.

Will shuddered, hands gripping desperately into Hannibal’s hair as though to take himself there again. Only to have Hannibal willingly, easily, take him back. He cried Hannibal’s name broken and panting. His whole-body shuddering from the new sensations.

He opened his heavy eyes, it was so easy to be lost in the pleasurable warmth of Hannibal’s skilled mouth. He felt almost drunk, but a sliver of his mind remained clear, keenly aware of Hannibal's hunger for his body, soul, all of him. It was there, in the tight grasp and nipping fingernails anchoring his hips in place. Will knew it and knew he would gladly give it. He wondered if these were the ravenous thoughts of a lure predator; for he too, intended to devour him in turn.

His hands gripped the sides of Hannibal's face drawing him up to his feet, face to face. Taking his lips, hungrily melting the man before him, kiss by kiss.

Will ran his hands over the fine wine-colored fabric of Hannibal's suite jacket, over the taunt muscles underneath. Drawing him from his jacket.

He let his hands wander over his broad chest and shoulders just under the black material. He glanced down, Hannibal’s long fingers worked nimbly beneath his undoing the vest. His hands loosening the black silk tie as he pulled him in, sharing slow, biting kisses.

He ran his hand along the front of his shirt, following the path of the buttons, as he dipped his fingers through the slightly parted fabric. Jerking it back suddenly, causing the buttons to give and the kiss to break. Will smiled, pulling the black shirt open fully, to the sound of tearing buttons. Exposing, curling dark and silver hair that covered his chest. As Hannibal drew his arms free of the confining sleeves.

Will sighed, trembling with anticipation. The musculature of the man before him enticing, as his coal black eyes watched him in return. Will reached out a timid hand, the flesh on his exposed shoulder firm, heated, and real. Hannibal claimed his trembling hand drawing it to his lips, as he kissed his knuckles and let his lips graze the back of his hand.

“You are afraid?” Hannibal whispered, looking up at him.

Will swallowed and nodded timidly.

His blue eyes locked on Hannibal’s. He turned his hand in Hannibal’s grasp, as he stepped into him, his other hand coming onto his hip as he drew Hannibal into his space.

Fear was not an enemy. It was instinct, like the pull between them, though nowhere as daunting. Looking upon his face and devilishly dark eyes he knew fear was a wise measure to keep. He dipped his head and nuzzled into Hannibal’s neck, breathing him in as his hands unbuckled Hannibal’s trousers.

He kicked his boots off and stepped free of his discard pants as Hannibal’s pants too fell away, Hannibal did the same.

Will led Hannibal towards him, hot slow kisses; he stopped abruptly the tree bark rough against his bare back. Hannibal knelt before him, hands tight on his hip as he turned Will around.

His heart raced, at the thought of Hannibal down on his knees behind him. The last vestiges of his timidness colored his cheeks and he was thankful, Hannibal could not see it.

His hands massaging the full curves of his ass as his tongue teased, the tight ring of muscle; appealing for entrance. Soft lips kissing and weakening his will as a finger slipped through him. He gasped clenching the bark of the tree, and felt it crack under his grasp. He laughed amused at himself. Lap after languid lap he felt his tension uncoil, his self-consciousness melting away. His nervous energy morphing into a familiar panging, aching heat in his gut as his breath suddenly caught short.

Simultaneously bucking towards and recoiling from Hannibal. He groaned, his brain scrambled both dismayed and wanting of the feeling Hannibal had triggered in him.

He shuddered, despite his best efforts, he could feel Hannibal pull away from him.

“I apologize if that was sudden,” Hannibal murmured his hand stroking the line of his spine.

“Do it again,” He panted, peering back at him, face flushed; he could just see Hannibal's lips pull in a smile and he forgave himself, this was new to him after all.

After the initial surprise, Will found he adjusted very well to the skillful movement of Hannibal's fingers and tongue working in unison to open him up. The addition of the second finger was even more magnificent, and he no longer cared about the sounds that escaped his parted lips.

His heart hammered in his chest, the hot coil of need hand-fed by Hannibal’s ministrations to places within and without him no one had ever touched.

He growled his forehead against the trunk of the tree as Hannibal’s fingers swiveled over the head of his cock and his whole body jerked.

"I can't take anymore..." Will groaned, his cock leaking copiously in Hannibal's hand.

"You are not yet ready." Hannibal countered.

"I'm ready enough!" Will growled, turning over his shoulder to meet his eyes. Hannibal rose to his feet, he couldn’t help but smile as he licked the taste of him from his lips. Mesmerized, by the beauty undone before him. Will’s beautiful azure eyes, eclipsed by the darkness of his blown-out pupils.

“Then, it would be my pleasure.” Hannibal replied, grazing his teeth along Will’s shoulder.

Hannibal led Will to a nearby felled stump, covered in a bed of lush green moss. Will smiled, cheeks flushed amused at the fantasticalness of it.

He eased himself back making himself comfortable as Hannibal eased himself over him. His body heavy and hot over his as their lips met again in languid kisses. Hannibal teased, grinding his hard cock against Will’s hip, trapping Will’s weeping cock between them.

Will hummed his hands roaming over Hannibal’s body freely.

Hannibal pulled back from him and propped himself on his knees. Will spread his legs, welcomingly, as Hannibal moved towards him. He leaned forward, dipping his fingers in Will’s waiting mouth.

Will locked eyes with Hannibal as he licked and sucked on Hannibal’s fingers. His hungry eyes watched intently, every clumsy lap and flick of tongue. With a final lick, Hannibal pulled his slick fingers from Will’s kiss swollen lips.

He glanced down, fingers toying with his semi-prepared opening. Will moaned pleasurably, his dick twitching in anticipation. He pawed and tugged on his dick trying to ease the hot tension coiled in his belly. Hannibal couldn’t help but lose track of his own task to stop and watch Will. After a pause, he regained himself and removed his fingers to lead his hard cock to Will’s opening. Will opened his eyes and watched, his hand still pumping his own erection slowly.

Will fought to keep his breathing even, his hand stopping. Willing himself to relax, as he felt the head of Hannibal’s erection, nestled against his opening. His solid, flushed cock ready.

Will's breath caught in his throat, as he felt Hannibal breach him and continue, slowly and deliberately.

Will dropped his head against the trunk, panting. Hannibal's hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip as he continued his controlled, deliberate breach of Will’s most intimate depths.

“Oh, god!” Will gasped. His hands clutching and tearing the moss from the trunk. A string of curses babbling from his lips.

“Stay with me Will,” Hannibal breathed encouragingly. Hands gripping his thigh and hip tightly. Hannibal bent over him trying to comfort him with kisses along his chest and shoulder.

Will felt Hannibal nuzzle against his neck, his breath ragged as he was finally buried to the hilt in the warm haven within Will.

Will hissed, as he gripped Hannibal’s biceps tightly, his teeth dragging across Hannibal’s shoulder.

Will moaned, Hannibal’s body hot and heavy above his. His vision hazy and unfocused as his nails dragged hard along the flesh of his shoulders, adjusting to feeling of sharing his body with another.

Hannibal stayed his movement. Still and hot above him, within him. His eyes fluttered, darkness hot and heavying poured over him like tar; skin, sweat-slicked moved against him. He felt like he was losing himself, drowning in Hannibal. At the same time, he was commanding the moves of the beast above him. Paradoxically, surrendering part of himself to take control of the other; as though returning to something uniquely primordial. Whatever Will was, he was becoming it fully. He knew it, through the electricity and hot darkness that enveloped them. Hannibal was the same, not so much becoming, but returning, like a fire reignited.

Will opened his heavy eyes; meeting Hannibal’s dark eyes, his gaze, reverently studying the mix of emotions flashing across Will’s face. His trembling hand came to the side of Hannibal’s face and drew him to his lips. Hannibal kissed him his passion and desire tenderly retrained to comfort Will. His mind was clear as he wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, clear in a way he’d never felt before, as though a veil had been lifted, here in their co-mingled heat.

Hannibal receded from him slowly, Will gasped at the motion, clutching at him as Hannibal plunged into him again. He repeated the pace a few times as the pain and discomfort slowly ebbed from Will features. After a few quicker pumps, Will’s own hips were moving to meet his eagerly. His fingers dug into his shoulder blades, his biting kisses broke skin where he could reach. It only served to spur him on, in one deep thrust Hannibal seemed to undo Will. It left him dazed and reeling as he relentlessly continued, his thrusts became quicker and struck at the sensitive bundle of nerves within him. He slowed his pace as he took Will in his hand and stroked him in time with his thrusts; he dipped his head down to kiss Will deeply.

He could feel it, hot in his gut. He thrust in, when Will’s legs locked behind him and he ground his hips mercilessly against him. Hannibal growled, his body shaking. His climax imminent and out of his control, Wills eyes flashed like ice, as he smiled back. Surrendering and doing as he was beckoned, Fucking him in earnest to the end.

The excruciating pleasure left them coiling into each other as they rode out their shared climax, bodies intertwined, spent and drowsy.

Will felt the familiar tingle and ache throughout his body, laced with pleasure; expertly unraveled by Hannibal even as he withdrew from his body. He looked to him eyes heavy lidded as he edged himself closer and into Hannibal’s waiting arms. Hannibal’s lips trembled, deceitfully helpless, as though to speak. Will leaned in slowly and sweetly like molasses, his fingers entwined in the silky strands of Hannibal's hair, searching for any mooring. Will swallowed the words bubbling up in his throat and sealed their communion with a slow deep kiss, tinged in a promising heat; Hannibal’s arms enveloped him tightly.

* * *

 

Will felt awake before he even came to. Like the windows in his mind and senses were all open.  He could hear for miles, smell the life of the plants and tiny things around him. When he finally opened his eyes, the new vibrancy of the world left him speechless.

Will dressed himself to the lively quiet of the clearing. He rubbed his face as he crouched down, fingers sinking into the soft soil. There was nothing he needed to accept. It was as Hannibal had promised.

He just was.

The memories seeped in like they'd always been there. Now remembered, but without an emotional tether to him. What was done was done. He knew the idea of guilt, he knew what it should feel it. It just didn't stick. He didn't, couldn't feel grieved about the deaths of those men. The right or wrong of it belonged to men like Jack Crawford and his officers. He was a predator; hunting, killing, seemed to have a different taste on his tongue as he licked his lips taking everything in through his new senses.

In the distance he could hear his dogs running free through the forest. He smiled, hearing the familiar happy panting approaching fast, even catching the sound of his coat as it caught on plants and twigs.

“Winston,” He smiled turning to greet the pushy nuzzling pup back a tad as he ruffled his collar and scratched behind his ears.

“Good morning Hannibal.” Will greeted raising his eyes to see the curious quirk in his eyebrow drop and be replaced by a warm smile.

“Good morning Will, your companion was eager to see you.” Hannibal replied motioning to the energetic dog sniffing around, tail wagging excitedly. Will watched Winston with a new appreciation for what the world looked like through his eyes.

“I never got the chance to thank you,” Hannibal began, Will rose to his feet interested.

“For what?” He asked dusting his hands off.

“You, unwittingly, do me a favor. It was in part, why I had allowed you access to the stream. No other would have had such leniency.”

“What _service_ did I preform?” Will asked, curious to know he’d been doing the Great Stag a favor and had not realized it.

Hannibal smiled mischievously, dropping his gaze to the hound at his heel.

“For many years the villagers have disposed of unwanted things at the edge of the forest. Among them, many dogs and litters of pups. Countless have died, but some, come into the woods desperate and hungry, they grow dangerous and cause great harm to my home and those within it.”

Will nodded slowly, his collection of strays, he chief among them, had been a reaction to the circumstances. They always seemed to find their way to him, he had to wonder about that now. He’d always surmised, that they needed someone, just as he did; even as they’d been discarded, cast to the edges of the village. He took them in to protect them from the wilds and by the same turn, protected the forest from them.

He met Hannibal’s eyes then, behind the gleam of devilishness lay patience, acceptance, and wanting. Things he’d been missing for a long time. He approached with certainty, slinging his arms around Hannibal’s neck and bring him close; he felt Hannibal’s arms wrap around his waist and pull their bodies flush to one another, a perfect fit.

“Well, you’re welcome.” Will smiled, clear blue eyes flitting up through dark lashes. “I do hope you know we are a packaged deal…”

Hannibal’s lip ticked up in a smile as he licked his lip with a quick flick of his tongue.

“I didn’t expect anything less.” He admitted easily, almost playfully.

Will bit his lip, relishing in how easily he could claim those dangerous lips in a slow easy kiss. Flames licked at the edges of his conscious thought, promises made yet to be fulfilled.

“Come,” Hannibal sighed breaking slowly from the kiss. Will felt his heart flutter at the unrestrained husky tone in his voice. “Let me show you _our_ home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a bit of a sappy happy ending, in that they will go on murdering together kind of ending, but it makes me happy. I always wished Will would embrace his monster (however unhealthy that might be), c’est la vie in fanfic. Thanks for giving this little story a bit of your time.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There really weren't any loose ends in The Fisherman and The Stag, and I probably don't have anything more to add. But this was another of those picture in my mind that I felt compelled to write.

The night Matthew Brown emerged alone form the woods was the last time anyone saw Will Graham.

Matt was insistent he’d killed a large wolf that had turned into a man. That the Great Stag was truly a fiendish monster, and that Will had stayed and thus saved his life. Reasonably, no one believed him. At day break a search party was organized by Jack Crawford, primarily focused on locating the missing suspect.

After a week of relentless searching, nothing was found. His home abandoned, his dogs gone. Matt was then detained and questioned regarding his final encounter with Will. He was also questioned regarding the previous murders.

With no solid evidence Matt was eventually, begrudgingly, released. Despite only having whispers about the events, the public decided that the missing Will Graham must have been responsible for the murders. His disappearance, merely his successful flight from capture.

No one was brave enough to go into the woods for months; in that time, they seemed to have expanded unnaturally. Consuming Will’s cottage and the only road out of town now cut through the forest. Few left the town, fewer entered. Whispers and gossip told of a creature that hunted on the path into the small village, of people disappearing and never being found.

Other tales told of guilty men and women from the larger towns that bordered the forest being judged and claimed by the forest.

* * *

 

Matt’s boots crunched quietly in the half an inch of freshly fallen snow that covered the forest floor, he exhaled and the puff of warm air swirled and climbed skyward.

The bare trees looked like skinny dark arms stretched towards the overcast white sky. The forest was sleeping. Movement was sparse, birds, a couple of starlings flittered through the branches.

He adjusted the rifle strap back on his shoulder, it still ached, especially in the cold; he took another step into the clearing. The last of the golden colored leaves had fallen scattering over the snowfall. Creating the mirage of a radiant carpet of flowers. The crack of a twig seemed to resonate through the white emptiness. He glanced about and saw the shape emerge, walking slowly towards him.

He swallowed, his body paralyzed. Caught in a double image, of what he saw now and what he’d seen then.

Seeing it now, the animal was something like a dog or a wolf, but it seemed to grow unnaturally larger as it got closer. A bulky body and a heavy winter coat of black fur; around its neck a plush, black mane of loosely curled fur, that reminded him of sheep’s wool.

Matt stared at the beast, its huge head at the level of his chest; too close. Stormy blue, almost human looking eyes stared back. It lowered its head, paws the size of his own hands carried him silently, as it circled around him. Matt stood very still, the animal sniffed at his ankles as it came around to stand in front of him.

“ _Never, spill blood._ ” Will’s voice called distorted and gruff, Matt looked around trying to find him. His eyes falling to meet the beast’s. “ _Don’t give cause, to spill yours._ ”

The voice came from the beast, its teeth bared as it let Will’s voice out from within its jaws.

“Will?” Matt called, his voice tremulous, as the beast trotted off, back into the white of the forest.

A black shape peeled free of a nearby tree, and his breath caught in his throat. Tall, black as a sliver of night amongst the snow. Matt recognized it, somehow, it seemed larger than before even at a distance. The familiar crown of antlers on its head as it turned its white eyes to him; cold shot through him, at the recognition in the creature’s white eyes.

He felt his whole-body tense, his chest aching, recalling the pain anew. His hand trembling at his side, knowing there was nothing he could do. The creature turned then, leaving him behind as it followed after the black beast-wolf.

From one blink to the next the monsters blurred and in their place; men walked, side by side. Matt strained his eyes but then there was nothing there at all.

He stood silent watching, afraid to move. The cold seeping through his thick winter clothes like reality. He couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t find what he was looking for. He shouldn’t look anymore.

This forest was no place for men, the domain of dangerous things.


End file.
